I presse not to the Quire, nor dare I greet
The holy Place with my unhallow’d feet:
My unwasht Muse pollutes not things Divine,
Nor mingles her prophaner notes with thine;
Here, humbly at the Porch, she listning stayes,
And with glad eares ***** in thy Sacred Layes.
So, devout Penitents of old were wont,
Some without doore, and some beneath the Font,
To stand and heare the Churches Liturgies,
Yet not assist the solemne Exercise.
Sufficeth her, that she a Lay-place gaine,
To trim thy Vestments, or but beare thy traine:
Though nor in Tune, nor Wing, She reach thy Larke,
Her Lyricke feet may dance before the Arke.
Who knowes, but that Her wandring eyes, that run
Now hunting Glow-wormes, may adore the Sun.
A pure Flame may, shot by Almighty Power
Into my brest, the earthy flame devoure:
My Eyes, in Penitentiall dew may steepe
That bryne, which they for sensuall love did weepe:
So (though ‘gainst Natures course) fire may be quencht
With fire, and water be with water drencht.
Perhaps, my restlesse Soule, tyr’d with pursuit
Of mortall beautie, seeking without fruit
Contentment there; which hath not, when enjoy’d,
Quencht all her thirst, nor satisfi’d, though cloy’d;
Weary of her vaine search below, above
In the first Faire may find th’ immortall Love.
Prompted by thy Example then, no more
In moulds of Clay will I my God adore;
But teare those Idols from my Heart, and Write
What his blest Sp’rit, not fond Love, shall endite.
Then, I no more shall court the Verdant Bay,
But the dry leavelesse Trunk on Golgotha:
And rather strive to gaine from thence one Thorne,
Then all the flourishing Wreathes by Laureats worne.

Another graduating class headed to another Grease themed party
Where another girl will have a revelation and meet the T Bird of her dreams.
Another plethora of pink ladies jackets and James Dean boys
Where another me and you will dance again.

Another life, much like my own where a popular boy cares
Where for a split second it doesn't matter how many people know you.
Another night, much like that night where you'll be worlds away again
Where I'll stay up all night thinking and falling in love.

Another girl is doing this right now.
She's at home, late at night dreaming of him.
He probably doesn't know or care too much.
She doesn't quite know what it is that she wants but she knows that he fits in somewhere.
He doesn't know what he wants at all.
In the end, it will be too little, too late.
Another day, week, month, year will go by
And they will be in the same place as they started.

Another set of Sandys and Dannys, Rizzos and Kenickies,
Where the magic of the movie wears off and the cycle starts again.