The Gentle Fair On Nervous Tea Relies,

O Days Remember'd Well! Remember'd All! The Bitter Sweet, The Honey And The Gall; Those Garden Rambles In The Silent Night, Those Trees So Shady, And That Moon Se Bright, That Thickset Alley By The Arbor Clos'd, That Woodbine Seat Where We At Last Repos'd; And Then The Hopes That Came And Then Were Gone, Quick As The Clouds Beneath The Moon Past On.

But Jest Apart--what Virtue Canst Thou Trace In That Broad Trim That Hides Thy Sober Face? Does That Long-skirted Drab, That Over-nice And Formal Clothing, Prove A Scorn Of Vice? Then For Thine Accent--what In Sound Can Be So Void Of Grace As Dull Monotony?

Soldiers In Arms! Defenders Of Our Soil! Who From Destruction Save Us; Who From Spoil Protect The Sons Of Peace, Who Traffic Or Who Toil; Would I Could Duly Praise You, That Each Deed Your Foe's Might Honor, And Your Friends Might Read.

Oh, Rather Give Me Commentators Plain, Who With No Deep Researches Vex The Brain; Who From The Dark And Doubtful Love To Run, And Hold Their Glimmering Tapers To The Sun.

Let's Learn To Live, For We Must Die Alone.