I am better able to imagine hell than heaven; it is my inheritance, I suppose |
If any have a stone to throw It is not I, ever or now |
In masks outrageous and austere The years go by in single file; But none has merited my fear, And none has quite escaped my smile |
In masks outrageous and austere The years go by in single file; But none has merited my fear, And none has quite escaped my smile |