As To Posterity, I May Ask What

And Truth Severe, By Fairy Fiction Drest.

The Curfew Tolls The Knell Of Parting Day, The Lowing Herd Winds Slowly O'er The Lea, The Ploughman Homeward Plods His Weary Way, And Leaves The World To Darkness And To Me.

A Fav'rite Has No Friend!

As To Posterity, I May Ask What Has It Ever Done To Oblige Me?

If The Best Man's Faults Were Written On His Forehead, He Would Draw His Hat Over His Eyes.