Epigraph
The ungodly are not so: but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away.
Psalm 1:4, King James Bible
And we walked in a magical garden with rivers and bowers,
And my bed was of ivory and gold;
And the Queen breathed soft in my ear a song of enchantment
And I never grew old...
And I never, never came back to the earth, oh, never and never;
How mother would cry and cry!
There’d be snow on the fields then, and all these sweet flowers in
the winter would wither, and die....
Suppose ... and suppose…
Walter de la Mare, Suppose, 1919
