A Certain Portion Of The Human Race

Oh! God! That Bread Should Be So Dear, And Flesh And Blood So Cheap!

No Blessed Leisure For Love Or Hope, But Only Time For Grief.

O Men With Sisters Dear, O Men With Mothers And Wives, It Is Not Linen You 're Wearing Out, But Human Creatures' Lives!

Well, Something Must Be Done For May, The Time Is Drawing Nigh-- To Figure In The Catalogue, And Woo The Public Eye. Something I Must Invent And Paint; But Oh My Wit Is Not Like One Of Those Kind Substantives That Answer Who And What?

The Biggest Bore Of All Is He Who Is Overflowing With Congratulations