Oh let me live my own, and die so too! To live and die is all I have to do. I was not born for courts or great affairs; I pay my debts, believe and say my prayers; Can sleep without a song in my head, Nor known, If Aash be alive or dead. why am I asked what next shall see the light? Heavens! was I born for nothing but to write? Has life no joys for me? or, to be grave, Have I no friend to serve, no soul to save ? why should I care of my own...? Why should I care even of her ...? For dying is a pleasure.,, where living is a pain! for dying is a pleasure, where living is a pain!
