Let's Live With That Small Pittance Which

It Is An Active Flame That Fliesfirst To The Babies In The Eyes.

Tears Are The Noble Language Of The Eye.

But Ne'er The Rose Without The Thorn.

Thou Art My Life, My Love, My Heart, The Very Eyes Of Me: And Hast Command Of Every Part To Live And Die For Thee.

Let's Live With That Small Pittance Which We Have; Who Covets More Is Evermore A Slave.