None Can Cure Their Harms By Wailing

How Poor Are They That Have Have Not Patients.

I Heard A Bustling Rumor Like A Fray, And The Wind Blows It From The Capitol.

If By Chance I Talk A Little Wild, Forgive Me; I Had It From My Father.

Being Holiday, The Beggar's Shop Is Shut.

There's Not A Note Of Mine That's Worth The Noting.