O Leave This Barren Spot

One Moment May With Bliss Repay Unnumbered Hours Of Pain.

An Original Something, Dear Maid, You Would Wish Me To Write; But How Shall I Begin? For I'm Sure I Have Not Original In Me, Excepting Original Sin.

O Star-eyed Science, Hast Thou Wander'd There, To Waft Us Home The Message Of Despair?

Where The Scriptures Speak, We Speak; Where The Scriptures Are Silent, We Are Silent.

I'll Meet The Raging Of The Skies, But Not An Angry Father.