Life Is Made Of Ever So Many

For A Long Time, No Village Girl Would Dress Her Hair Or Bosom With The Sweetest Flower From That Field Of Death: And After Many A Year Had Come And Gone, The Berries Growing There, Were Still Believed To Leave Too Deep A Stain Upon The Hand That Plucked Them.

Night, Like A Giant, Fills The Church, From Pavement To Roof, And Holds Dominion Through The Silent Hours. Pale Dawn Again Comes Peeping Through The Windows: And, Giving Place To Day, Sees Night Withdraw Into The Vaults, And Follows It, And Drives It Out, And Hides Among The Dead.

That Sort Of Half Sigh, Which, Accompanied By Two Or Three Slight Nods Of The Head, Is Pity's Small Change In General Society.

I Went Away, Dear Agnes, Loving You. I Stayed Away, Loving You. I Returned Home, Loving You!

Buy An Annuity Cheap, And Make Your Life Interesting To Yourself And Everybody Else That Watches The Speculation.