O Men With Sisters Dear,

Dear Bells! How Sweet The Sound Of Village Bells When On The Undulating Air They Swim!

While The Steeples Are Loud In Their Joy, To The Tune Of The Bells' Ring-a-ding, Let Us Chime In A Peal, One And All, For We All Should Be Able To Sing Hullah Baloo.

For My Part, Getting Up Seems Not So Easy By Half As Lying.

Some Dreams We Have Are Nothing Else But Dreams, Unnatural And Full Of Contradictions; Yet Others Of Our Most Romantic Schemes, Are Something More Than Fictions.

Such A Blush In The Midst Of Brown Was Born, Like Red Poppies Grown With Corn.