364 The Morning after Woe— `Tis frequently the Way— Surpasses all that rose before— For utter Jubilee— As Nature did not care— And piled her Blossoms on— And further to parade a Joy Her Victim stared upon— The Birds declaim their Tunes— Pronouncing every word Like Hammers—Did they know they fell Like Litanies of Lead— On here and there—a creature— They`d modify the Glee To fit some Crucifixal Clef— Some Key of Calvary—SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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