The Child's Toys And The Old Man's

When My Mother Died I Was Very Young, And My Father Sold Me While Yet My Tongue Could Scarcely Cry Weep Weep Weep Weep. So Your Chimneys I Sweep, And In Soot I Sleep.

Little Fly, Thy Summer's Play My Thoughtless Hand Has Brushed Away. Am Not I A Fly Like Thee? Or Art Not Thou A Man Like Me? For I Dance And Drink And Sing, Till Some Blind Hand Shall Brush My Wing!

Mercy, Pity, And Peace, Are The World's Release.

Opposition Is True Friendship.

I Have No Name: I Am But Two Days Old. What Shall I Call Thee? I Happy Am, Joy Is My Name. Sweet Joy Befall Thee!