My Allie golden-heart and sky-blue eyes
You flower-bed where my desires swarm
For ever inspiration of my sight
In my arms fold your fanciable form
My red and white corpuscles tell me this:
That I was born to live within your kiss.
Sometimes you don’t remember she’s gone
-You should, it’s quiet- in the rooms, outside
And it’s quiet because she’s died...
In Fulham full of misery
I had a friend, I had a choice:
Two parts in Scotland, offered me...
