The Devil weds a widow
Death another's leftovers
Better to lie on
Better it would be for me
And better it would
Many rocks the rapid has
A lot of billows the
Long evenings full of longing
Low-spirited my mornings
Full of
Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense
Who say that music
Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense
Who say that
Old folk remember
And those today learn
How before their
What the thrush toils at
The partridge asks for
The
The calloo’s spirits are low
Swimming on the chill water
In the vale where I once listened out for the
