The Hues Of Bliss More

Thought Would Destroy Their Paradise.

Each In His Narrow Cell Forever Laid, The Rude Forefathers Of The Hamlet Sleep.

Hell Is Full Of Good Intentions.

The Curfew Tolls The Knell Of Parting Day, The Lowing Herd Winds Slowly O'er The Lea, The Ploughman Homeward Plods His Weary Way, And Leaves The World To Darkness And To Me.

Far From The Madding Crowd's Ignoble Strife.