The Ocean Moans Over Dead Men's Bones.

It Is The Lord's Day, And I Do Believe That Cheerful Hearts And Faces Are Not Unpleasant In His Sight.

They Fail, And They Alone, Who Have Not Striven.

Black Tragedy Lets Slip Her Grim Disguise And Shows You Laughing Lips And Roguish Eyes; But When, Unmasked, Gay Comedy Appears, How Wan Her Cheeks Are, And What Heavy Tears!

Hebe's Here, May Is Here! The Air Is Fresh And Sunny; And The Miser-bees Are Busy Hoarding Golden Honey.

The Ring Of A False Coin Is Not More Recognizable Than That Of A Rhyme Setting Forth A False Sorrow.