All right Marge,
If your going to write these kinds of things when I'm out of town and gone... Well, I'm just gonna have ta tell you that your going ta have ta copy me all the best around. I was kinda thinking how the grass might of felt being all smooshed and..?
Ode By William Wordsworth
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
By Wordsworth, William.
Sometime between 1801 and 1807.
[This message has been edited by lucky (edited 07-23-2000).]