By hope and fear, by grief and joy opprest,
With deadly hate, more deadly love infected;
Without, within, in body, soul, distrest;
Little by all, least by my self respected,
But most, most there, where most I lov'd, neglected;
Hated, and hating life, to death I call;
Who scorns to take what is refus'd by all.

Whither, ah, whither then wilt thou betake thee,
Despised wretch, of friends, of all forlorn,
Since hope, and love, and life, and death forsake thee?
Poore soul, thy own tormenter, others scorn!
Whither, poore soul, ah, whither wilt thou turn?
What inne, what host (scorn'd wretch) wilt thou now chuse
The common host, and inne, death, grave, refuse thee.

To thee, great Love, to thee I prostrate fall,
That right'st in love the heart in false love swerved:
On thee, true Love, on thee I weeping call;
I, who am scorn'd, where with all truth I served,
On thee, so wrong'd, where thou hast so deserved:
Disdain'd, where most I lov'd, to thee I plain me,
Who truly lovest those, who (fools) disdain thee.

Thou never-erring Way, in thee direct me;
Thou Death of death, oh, in thy death engrave me:
Thou hated Love, with thy firm love respect me;
Thou freest Servant, from this yoke unslave me:
Glorious Salvation, for thy glory save me.
So neither love, nor hate, scorn, death, shall move me;
But with thy love, great Love, I still shall love thee.  

Said the soldier to the Surgeon, 'I've got noises in me head
And a kind o' filled up feeling after every time I'm fed;
I can sleep all night on picket, but I can't sleep in my bed.'
And the Surgeon said,
'That's Lead!'

Said the soldier to the surgeon, 'Do you think they'll send me back?
For I really ain't adapted to be carrying a pack
Though I've humped a case of whisky half a mile upon my back.'
And the Surgeon said,
'That's Lead!'

'And my legs have swelled up cruel, I can hardly walk at all,
But when the Taubes come over you should see me start to crawl;
When we're sprinting for the dugout, I can easy beat 'em all.'
And the Surgeon said,
'That's Lead.'

So they sent him to the trenches where he landed safe and sound,
And he drew his ammunition, just about two fifty round:
'Oh, Sergeant, what's this heavy stuff I've got to hump around?'
And the Sergeant said,
'That's Lead!'