It Is Only To The Happy That

Here Bring Your Wounded Hearts, Here Tell Your Anguish; Earth Has No Sorrow That Heaven Cannot Heal.

Bastard Freedom Waves Her Fustian Flag In Mockery Over Slaves.

Come O'er The Sea, Maiden With Me, Mine Through The Sunshine, Storms And Snows; Seasons May Roll, But The True Soul Burns The Same, Where'er It Goes.

This Wretched Brain Gave Way, And I Became A Wreck At Random Driven, Without One Glimpse Of Reason Or Heaven.

Usually, The Main Problem With Life Conundrums Is That We Don't Bring To Them Enough Imagination