Ah, blind and dull! Let us not chide
The dwellers in far Italy,
But rather draw the veil aside
From our own eyes, that we may see,
Lo! all that seemed but commonplace,
Adorned with beauty and with grace!
Lamentation of the Lungs.
Alas! has winter come again? Oh, how we dread the day!
The sufferings we undergo the bravest might dismay.