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Rh Untuneful is laughter and mirth; Hide him, then, under the earth. Well it were to be dead.

Here comes one weeping so hard: Woeful 'tis to weep. Tears on the cheek of youth. Where smiles should be in truth; Tears in the eyes of love. Angels should weep above, When the young are sad below. Better were death than woe; Hard it is to weep.