'tis Time, My Friend, 'tis Time! For

Ballet Is A Dance Executed By The Human Soul.

In This, Our Age Of Infamy Man's Choice Is But To Be A Tyrant, Traitor, Prisoner: No Other Choice Has He.

I Loved You; Even Now I May Confess, Some Embers Of My Love Their Fire Retain; But Do Not Let It Cause You More Distress, I Do Not Want To Sadden You Again. Hopeless And Tongue Tied, Yet I Loved You Dearly With Pangs The Jealous And The Timid Know; So Tenderly I Loved You, So Sincerely, I Pray God Grant Another Love You So.

I Have Outlasted All Desire, My Dreams And I Have Grown Apart; My Grief Alone Is Left Entire, The Gleamings Of An Empty Heart. The Storms Of Ruthless Dispensation Have Struck My Flowery Garland Numb, I Live In Lonely Desolation And Wonder When My End Will Come. Thus On A Naked Tree-limb, Blasted By Tardy Winter's Whistling Chill, A Single Leaf Which Has Outlasted Its Season Will Be Trembling Still.

I Am Married And Happy. My Only Wish Is That Nothing Will Change.