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 —

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