They Truly Mourn, That Mourn Without A

I See Before Me The Gladiator Lie.

Tis An Old Lesson; Time Approves It True, And Those Who Know It Best, Deplore It Most; When All Is Won That All Desire To Woo, The Paltry Prize Is Hardly Worth The Cost.

I Have Imbibed Such A Love For Money That I Keep Some Sequins In A Drawer To Count, And Cry Over Them Once A Week.

Grief Is Fantastical, And Loves The Dead, And The Apparel Of The Grave.

Tis Sweet To Listen As The Night Winds Creep From Leaf To Leaf.