Willows swaying by the riverside

The aching heart needs some love

Let’s cut the mournful numbers out

Enmity and Jealousy both see Virtue as a thorn

Hold the hand of Silence

Wear your mask, keep your distance, be Sensible

All was ablaze, bizarre the scenes

Is it wiser to remain the fool that you are

Things, O Things, all cluttered around

What is Time, I often wonder