How Hard It Is For Women To

Hanging And Wiving Goes By Destiny.

Fear No More The Heat O' Th' Sun Nor The Furious Winters' Rages; Thou Thy Worldly Task Hast Done, Home Art Gone, And Ta'en Thy Wages. Golden Lads And Girls All Must, As Chimney-sweepers, Come To Dust.

The Empty Vessel Makes The Loudest Sound.

They Whose Guilt Within Their Bosom Lies, Imagine Every Eye Beholds Their Blame.

The Common Curse Of Mankind, Folly And Ignorance, Be Thine In Great Revenue!