Escape is such a thankful Word I often in the Night Consider it unto myself No spectacle in sight Escape - it is the Basket

The Sun kept setting—setting—stil… No Hue of Afternoon— Upon the Village I perceived From House to House ’twas Noon— The Dusk kept dropping—dropping—s…

277 What if I say I shall not wait! What if I burst the fleshly Gate— And pass escaped—to thee! What if I file this Mortal—off—

How firm Eternity must look To crumbling men like me The only Adamant Estate In all Identity - How mighty to the insecure

8 There is a word Which bears a sword Can pierce an armed man— It hurls its barbed syllables

171 Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now!

163 Tho’ my destiny be Fustian— Hers be damask fine— Tho’ she wear a silver apron— I, a less divine—

“Sic transit gloria mundi,” “How doth the busy bee,” “Dum vivimus vivamus,” I stay mine enemy! Oh “veni, vidi, vici!”