What art thou, life, that we, must court thy stay? A breath one single gasp must puff away! A short-lived flower, that with the day must fade! A flee….

A poem's life and death dependeth still Not on the poet's wits, but reader's will..

'Twas drink made me fall in love, And love made me run into debt, And though I have struggled and struggled and strove, I cannot get out of them yet..

I have been in love, and in debt, and in drink, this many and many a year..

Something there is moves me to love, and I Do know I love, but know not how, nor why..