My Brother Starv'd Between Two

Lo! Now The Direful Monster, Whose Skin Clings To His Strong Bones, Strides O'er The Groaning Rocks: He Withers All In Silence, And His Hand Unclothes The Earth, And Freezes Up Frail Life.

Tools Were Made And Born Were Hands, Every Farmer Understands.

But If At Church They Would Give Some Ale. And A Pleasant Fire Our Souls To Regale. We'd Sing And We'd Pray All The Live Long Day, Nor Ever Once From The Church To Stray.

Each Man Is Haunted Until His Humanity Awakens.

I Cry, Love! Love! Love! Happy Happy Love! Free As The Mountain Wind!