The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But, I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep... And hello where in this small-talking world can I find a longitude with no platitude ?

By myself again;
What difference, then ?
Only  that underlying sense
Of the look of a lake on returning thence.

Madam Life's a piece bloom
Death goes dogging everywhere;
She's the tenant of the room,
He's the ruffian on the stair.

You shall see her as a friend,
You shall bilk him once and twice;
But he'll trap you in the end,
and he'll stick you for her price.

With his knee bones at your chest,
And his knuckles in your throat,
You would reason - plead - protest !
Clutching at her petticoat;

But she's heard it all before,
Well she knows you've had your fun,
Gingerly she gains the door,
And your little job is done.