Chapter 1125 of 1964 · 61 words · ~1 min read

LXXXIX.

It is an awful topic--but 't is not My cue for any time to be terrific: For checkered as is seen our human lot With good, and bad, and worse, alike prolific Of melancholy merriment, to quote Too much of one sort would be soporific;-- Without, or with, offence to friends or foes, I sketch your world exactly as it goes.