Now A Soft Kiss - Aye, By

Wine Is Only Sweet To Happy Men.

I Shall Soon Be Laid In The Quiet Grave--thank God For The Quiet Grave--o! I Can Feel The Cold Earth Upon Me--the Daisies Growing Over Me--o For This Quiet--it Will Be My First.

Music's Golden Tongue Flatter'd To Tears This Aged Man And Poor.

Fade Far Away, Dissolve, And Quite Forget.

The Poppies Hung Dew-dabbled On Their Stalks.