But Evil Is Wrought By Want Of

The Year's In Wane; There Is Nothing Adorning; The Night Has No Eve, And The Day Has No Morning; Cold Winter Gives Warning!

Bells Are Musics Laughter.

But Evil Is Wrought By Want Of Thought, As Well As Want Of Heart!

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.

Tis Like The Birthday Of The World, When Earth Was Born In Bloom; The Light Is Made Of Many Dyes, The Air Is All Perfume: There's Crimson Buds, And White And Blue, The Very Rainbow Showers Have Turned To Blossoms Where They Fell, And Sown The Earth With Flowers.