Hope Is Incredible To The Slave Of

Often On Earth The Gentlest Heart Is Fain To Feed And Banquet On Another's Woe.

Perhaps Out There, Somewhere, Someone Is Sighing For Your Absence; And With This Thought, My Soul Begins To Breathe.

Whyle I Was Abowte To Chaunge Myn Olde Lyff-- What Sorowe I Suffred, Dyseese, Angre And Stryff, Cracchynge Myn Here, My Chekys All Totare, Wrythynge My Fyngres For Angwysshe And Care, Watrynge The Erthe With My Byttre Salte Teres That The Crye Of My Syghes Ascended To Goddys Eres, My Knees With Myn Handys Grasped Togedyre Soore, And Yitt I Stode The Same Man I Was Afore Tyl A Depe Profounde Remembraunce Att The Laste Hadd All My Wrecchednesse Afore Myn Eyn Caste

I Rejoiced In My Progress, Mourned My Weaknesses, And Commiserated The Universal Instability Of Human Conduct.

Who Naught Suspects Is Easily Deceived.