What Should I Be But Just What

Man Has Never Been The Same Since God Died.

Her Lawn Looks Like A Meadow, And If She Mows The Place She Leaves The Clover Standing And The Queen Anne's Lace.

Lord, I Do Fear Thou'st Made The World Too Beautiful This Year My Soul Is All But Out Of Me-let Fall No Burning Leaf; Prithee, Let No Bird Call.

Music My Rampart, And My Only One.

Pour Away Despair And Rinse The Cup. Eat Happiness Like Bread.