How Hard It Is To Hide The

I Am That Merry Wanderer Of The Night.

As A Decrepit Father Takes Delight To See His Active Child Do Deeds Of Youth, So I, Made Lame By Fortune's Dearest Spite, Take All My Comfort Of Thy Worth And Truth.

Let's Teach Ourselves That Honorable Stop, Not To Outsport Discretion.

This Fell Sergeant, Death, Is Strict In His Arrest.

Blind Is His Love, And Best Befits The Dark.