And Better Had They Ne'er

Is Death The Last Sleep? No, It Is The Last And Final Awakening.

Sensibility Is Nature's Celestial Spring.

Love, To Her Ear, Was But A Name, Combin'd With Vanity And Shame; Her Hopes, Her Fears, Her Joys, Were All Bounded Within The Cloister Wall.

Come Fill Up My Cup, Come Fill Up My Can, Come Saddle Your Horses, And Call Up Your Men; Come Open The West Port, And Let Me Gang Free, And It's Room For The Bonnets Of Bonny Dundee!

November's Sky Is Chill And Drear, November's Leaf Is Red And Sear.