Perhaps what to this point has led,
Weight ever present on my head,
Crushing any hope of joy,
All fond emotions to destroy,
The oft too loud, no, deaf’ning jeer,
Of my omnipresent fear.
In spite of this unwelcome guest,
I am quite sure with ample rest,
I’ll bring back to my fore of mind,
The many things which make me kind,
Things I may have since forgot,
With which to cleanse this fearful rot.