O Leave This Barren Spot To Me!

A Man Who Will Not Leave His Room Because He Does Not Know How, Or Is Afraid To Open The Door, Is Trapped Just The Same Whether Or Not The Door Is Locked.

For There No Yew Nor Cypress Spread Their Glom But Roses Blossom'd Each Rustic Tomb.

On The Green Banks Of Shannon, When Sheelah Was Nigh, No Blithe Irish Lad Was So Happy As I, No Harp Like My Own Could So Cheerily Play, And Wherever I Went Was My Poor Dog Tray.

O Star-eyed Science, Hast Thou Wander'd There, To Waft Us Home The Message Of Despair?

Men Of England! Who Inheritrights That Cost Your Sires Their Blood.