I Resolved That, Like The Sun, As

Oh Would I Were Dead Now, Or Up In My Bed Now, To Cover My Head Now, And Have A Good Cry!

She Stood Breast-high Amid The Corn Clasp'd By The Golden Light Of Morn, Like The Sweetheart Of The Sun, Who Many A Glowing Kiss Had Won.

Experience Enables Me To Depose To The Comfort And Blessing That Literature Can Prove In Seasons Of Sickness And Sorrow.

A Name, It Has More Than Nominal Worth, And Belongs To Good Or Bad Luck At Birth

The Lily Is All In White, Like A Saint, And So Is No Mate For Me.