Sentence First, Verdict Afterwards.

A Tale Begun In Other Days, When Summer Suns Were Glowing - A Simple Chime, That Served To Time The Rhythm Of Your Rowing - Whose Echoes Live In Memory Yet, Though Envious Years Would Say 'forget.

You May Charge Me With Murder--or Want Of Sense-- (we Are All Of Us Weak At Times): But The Slightest Approach To A False Pretence Was Never Among My Crimes!

In Autumn, When The Leaves Are Brown, Take Pen And Ink, And Write It Down.

I Give Myself Very Good Advice, But I Very Seldom Follow It.

Consider Anything, Only Don’t Cry!