A Ministering Angel Shall My Sister Be.

Flout 'em, And Scout 'em; And Scout 'em, And Flout 'em; / Thought Is Free.

We Waste Our Lights In Vain, Like Lamps By Day.

He Is White-livered And Red-faced.

Omission To Do What Is Necessary Seals A Commission To A Blank Of Danger; And Danger, Like An Ague, Subtly Taints Even Then When We Sit Idly In The Sun.

Why, I Can Smile And Murder Whiles I Smile, And Cry 'content' To That Which Grieves My Heart, And Wet My Cheeks With Artificial Tears, And Frame My Face For All Occasions