The Music Soars Within The Little Lark,

Oh, A Day In The City-square, There Is No Such Pleasure In Life!

If You Desire Faith, Then You Have Faith Enough.

And Friends, Dear Friends,--when It Shall Be That This Low Breath Is Gone From Me, And Gone My Bier Ye Come To Weep, Let One, Most Loving Of You All, Say, "not A Tear Must O'er Her Fall; He Giveth His Beloved Sleep.

We Have Hearts Within, Warm, Live, Improvident, Indecent Hearts.

May The Good God Pardon All Good Men.