If, Of All Words Of Tongue And

If, Of All Words Of Tongue And Pen, The Saddest Are, It Might Have Been,' More Sad Are These We Daily See: 'it Is, But Hadn't Ought To Be!'

Hark! I Hear The Tramp Of Thousands, And Of Armèd Men The Hum; Lo, A Nation's Hosts Have Gathered Round The Quick Alarming Drum Saying, Come, Freemen, Come! Ere Your Heritage Be Wasted, Said The Quick Alarming Drum.

Which I Wish To Remark-- And My Language Is Plain,-- That For Ways That Are Dark And For Tricks That Are Vain, The Heathen Chinee Is Peculiar.

The Creator Who Could Put A Cancer In A Believer's Stomach Is Above Being Interfered With By Prayers.

Never A Lip Is Curved With Pain That Can't Be Kissed Into Smiles Again.