The days will rally, wreathing Their crazy tarantelle; And you must go on breathing, But I’ll be safe in hell. Like January weather,

Star, that gives a gracious dole, What am I to choose? Oh, will it be a shriven soul, Or little buckled shoes? Shall I wish a wedding-ring,

Unseemly are the open eyes That watch the midnight sheep, That look upon the secret skies Nor close, abashed, in sleep; That see the dawn drag in, unbidde…

Oh, both my shoes are shiny new, And pristine is my hat; My dress is 1922.... My life is all like that.

If, with the literate, I am Impelled to try an epigram, I never seek to take the credit; We all assume that Oscar said it.

Once, when I was young and true, Someone left me sad– Broke my brittle heart in two; And that is very bad. Love is for unlucky folk,

Sleep, pretty lady, the night is e… Drift, and so lightly, on crystall… Wrapped in its perfumes, the darkn… Starlight bespangles the way of yo… Chorus the nightingales, wistfully…

Accursed from their birth they be Who seek to find monogamy, Pursuing it from bed to bed– I think they would be better dead.

If wild my breast and sore my prid… I bask in dreams of suicide; If cool my heart and high my head, I think, ‘How lucky are the dead!…

Dante Gabriel Rossetti Buried all of his libretti, Thought the matter over - then Went and dug them up again.

I’m sick of embarking in dories Upon an emotional sea. I’m wearied of playing Dolores (A role never written for me). I’ll never again like a cub lick

Ghosts of all my lovely sins, Who attend too well my pillow, Gay the wanton rain begins; Hide the limp and tearful willow. Turn aside your eyes and ears,

Helen of Troy had a wandering gla… Sappho’s restriction was only the… Ninon was ever the chatter of Fra… But oh, what a good girl am I!