Dame Poverty Gave Me My Name, And

Whatever Lives Is Granted Breath But By The Grace And Sufferance Of Death.

Death Cut The Strings That Gave Me Life, And Handed Me To Sorrow, The Only Kind Of Middle Wife My Folks Could Beg Or Borrow.

Never Love With All Your Heart, It Only Ends In Aching.

I Cut My Teeth As The Black Raccoon-- For Implements Of Battle.

I Doubt Not God Is Good, Well-meaning, Kind