Poverty Possesses This Disease; Through Want It

Down On Your Knees, And Thank Heaven, Fasting, For A Good Man's Love.

Time Will Cure You, But Now Is Your Grief Still Young.

What Greater Pain Could Mortals Have Than This: To See Their Children Dead Before Their Eyes?

The Wise With Hope Support The Pains Of Life.

Lady, The Sun's Light To Our Eyes Is Dear, And Fair The Tranquil Reaches Of The Sea, And Flowery Earth In May, And Bounding Waters; And So Right Many Fair Things I Might Praise; Yet Nothing Is So Radiant And So Fair As For Souls Childless, With Desire Sore-smitten, To See The Light Of Babes About The House.