Pity It Is To Slay The Meanest

While The Steeples Are Loud In Their Joy, To The Tune Of The Bells' Ring-a-ding, Let Us Chime In A Peal, One And All, For We All Should Be Able To Sing Hullah Baloo.

The Lily Is All In White, Like A Saint, And So Is No Mate For Me.

The Best Of Friends Fall Out, And So His Teeth Had Done Some Years Ago.

Whilst Breezy Waves Toss Up Their Silvery Spray.

We Watch'd Her Breathing Through The Night, Her Breathing Soft And Low, As In Her Breast The Wave Of Life Kept Heaving To And Fro.