A Certain Portion Of The

With Fingers Weary And Worn, With Eyelids Heavy And Red, A Woman Sat In Unwomanly Rags, Plying Her Needle And Thread.

A Man That's Fond Precociously Of Stirring , :;:; Must Be A Spoon.

I Love Thee - I Love Thee, 'tis All That I Can Say, It Is My Vision In The Night, My Dreaming In The Day.

How Bless'd The Heart That Has A Friend. A Sympathizing Ear To Lend.

I Saw Old Autumn In The Misty Morn Stand Shadowless Like Silence, Listening To Silence.