there is weariness in my bones they creak, they croak with dreariness and old ages moans, they groans, they drones for the wind is bitter as the years flitter like dried-up leaves, it grieves, round the eaves and howls like a banshee, get up, get up, but can she? no siree, says she, exhaustedlu! ly 1 8 8 8 1 / 2 0 / 7 2