And Moody Madness Laughing Wild Amid Severest

Poetry Is Thoughts That Breathe, And Words That Burn.

Ye Towers Of Julius, London's Lasting Shame, With Many A Foul And Midnight Murder Fed.

We Frolic While 'tis May.

Implores The Passing Tribute Of A Sigh.

Far From The Madding Crowd's Ignoble Strife Their Sober Wishes Never Learn'd To Stray; Along The Cool Sequester'd Vale Of Life They Kept The Noiseless Tenor Of Their Way.