The echoes of which Though quite unplanned Full of joy and tears Have already spanned A thousand years. They use me - now and then. The copyright to use Exactly as you choose. Of that I cannot guess. Might demand a degree of humanity and risk Some distance beyond my current capacity.
Nothing is ever exactly what it seems.
But nothing did or said. Wishing that we were dead. Titled Greta, Great heart, To hear your voice Made me rejoice. Dear stalwart friend Whom I shall love Until the end. Sometimes, dear heart, remember me.