Pity It Is To Slay The Meanest

No Sun, No Moon, No Morn, No Noon, No Dawn, No Dusk, No Proper Time Of Day, . . . . . . No Road, No Street, No T' Other Side The Way, . . . . . . No Shade, No Shine, No Butterflies, No Bees, No Fruits, No Flowers, No Leaves, No Buds.

No Blessed Leisure For Love Or Hope, But Only Time For Grief.

Alas For The Rarity Of Christian Charity Under The Sun!

A Name, It Has More Than Nominal Worth, And Belongs To Good Or Bad Luck At Birth

So Mayst Thou Live, Dear! Many Years, In All The Bliss That Life Endears