Sinks My Sad Soul With Sorrow To

The Life, Which Others Pay, Let Us Bestow, And Give To Fame What We To Nature Owe.

I'm A Spalding Gray In A Rick Dees World.

What Mighty Woes To Thy Imperial Race From Woman Rose.

And Rest At Last Where Souls Unbodied Dwell, In Ever-flowing Meads Of Asphodel.

There Is A Time For Many Words, And There Is Also A Time For Sleep.