The Landlord's Laugh Was Ready Chorus.

In Durance Vile 1here Must I Wake And Weep, And All My Frowsy Couch In Sorrow Steep.

Dare To Be Honest And Fear No Labor. ... Opera Is Where A Man Gets Stabbed In The Back, And Instead Of Dying, He Sings.

O Life! Thou Art A Galling Load, Along A Rough, A Weary Road, To Wretches Such As I!

If Heaven A Draught Of Heavenly Pleasure Spare, One Cordial In This Melancholy Vale, 't Is When A Youthful, Loving, Modest Pair In Other's Arms Breathe Out The Tender Tale

Even Every Ray Of Hope Destroyed And Not A Wish To Gild The Gloom.