A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King.

The sun just touched the morning;
The morning, happy thing,
Supposed that he had come to dwell,
And life would be all spring.

Ample make this bed. / Make this bed with awe; / In it wait till judgement break / Excellent and fair.

Is wholesome even for the King.

There came a wind like a bugle; / It quivered through the grass.

I cannot live with You --/ It would be Life --/ And Life is over there --/ Behind the Shelf.