How Sad And Bad And

For Life, With All Its Yields Of Joy And Woe Is Just A Chance O' The Prize Of Learning Love.

Fail I Alone, In Words And Deeds? Why, All Men Strive And Who Succeeds?

I Want To Know A Butcher Paints, A Baker Rhymes For His Pursuit, Candlestick-maker Much Acquaints His Soul With Song, Or, Haply Mute, Blows Out His Brains Upon The Flute.

In God's Good Time, Which Does Not Always Fall On Saturday When The World Looks For Wages.

Death Was Past, Life Not Come: So He Waited.