Before Man Made Us Citizens,

And The Choice Goes By Forever 'twixt That Darkness And That Light.

Earth Gets Its Price For What Earth Gives Us.

And What Is So Rare As A Day In June? Then, If Ever, Come Perfect Days; Then Heaven Tries Earth If It Be In Tune, And Over It Softly Her Warm Ear Lays; Whether We Look, Or Whether We Listen, We Hear Life Murmur, Or See It Glisten.

I Tell Ye Wut, My Judgment Is You're Pooty Sure To Fail, Ez Long 'z The Head Keeps Turnin' Back For Counsel To The The Tail.

A Stray Hair, By Its Continued Irritation, May Give More Annoyance Than A Smart Blow.