Critics! Those Cut-throat Bandits In The Paths

When Chill November's Surly Blast Made Fields And Forests Bare.

The Lightly-jumping, Glowrin' Trouts, That Thro' My Waters Play.

Who Made The Heart, 'tis He Alone Decidedly Can Try Us

I'll Be Merry And Free, I'll Be Sad For Nae-body; If Nae-body Cares For Me, I'll Care For Nae-body.

And Like A Passing Thought, She Fled In Light Away.