Coffee makes us severe, and grave and philosophical.

I sing to use the waiting, My bonnet but to tie, And shut the door unto my house; No more to do have I, Till, his best step approaching, We journey to the day, And tell each other how we sang To keep the dark away.

Every morning is a revolution against the darkness!

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,One clover, and a bee,And revery.The revery alone will do,If bees are few.

I measure every Grief I meetWith narrow, probing, eyes __ wonder if It weighs like Mine __r has an Easier size.I wonder if They bore it long __r did it just begin __ could not tell the Date of Mine __t feels so old a pain __ wonder if it hurts to live __nd if They have to try __nd whether _ could They choose between __t would not be _ to die __ note that Some _ gone patient long __t length, renew their smile __n imitation of a LightThat has so little Oil __ wonder if when Years have piled __ome Thousands _ on the Harm __hat hurt them early _ such a lapseCould give them any Balm.

The past is not a package one can lay away.