Out, Out, Brief Candle! Life's But A

Set Your Heart At Rest. The Fairyland Buys Not The Child Of Me.

Our Peace Shall Stand As Firm As Rocky Mountains.

A Wretched Soul, Bruised With Adversity, We Bid Be Quiet When We Hear It Cry; But Were We Burdened With Light Weight Of Pain, As Much Or More We Should Ourselves Complain.

We Must Be Brief When Traitors Brave The Field.

I Would Fain Die A Dry Death.