Mike: My word, Eric, have you joined that "parcel of dandies
and ennuyées" that Whitman bemoaned?
No, it's sad. Let it be sad without picturing a narrator.
You don't need my sneer to see sadness, invented or not.
He who binds to himself a joy Does the wingèd life destroy; But he who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternity's sunrise.
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