Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now,
we had goldfish and they circled around and around in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both
I do not love you except because I love you; I go from loving to not loving you,
Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land;
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
Well, son, I'll tell you: Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
'Hope' is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul—
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies,
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
On the Ning Nang Nong Where the Cows go Bong!
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now,
we had goldfish and they circled around and around in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both
I do not love you except because I love you; I go from loving to not loving you,
Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land;
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
Well, son, I'll tell you: Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
'Hope' is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul—
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies,
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
On the Ning Nang Nong Where the Cows go Bong!