Time Goes On Crutches Till Love Have

Had I But Died An Hour Before This Chance, I Had Liv'd A Blessed Time; For, From This Instant, There's Nothing Serious In Mortality: All Is But Toys; Renown, And Grace Is Dead; The Wine Of Life Is Drawn, And The Mere Lees Is Left This Vault To Brag Of.

But Shall We Wear These Glories For A Day? Or Shall They Last, And We Rejoice In Them?

Dream On, Dream On, Of Bloody Deeds And Death.

Unnatural Deeds Do Breed Unnatural Troubles.

Our Peace Shall Stand As Firm As Rocky Mountains.