I Had A Little Sorrow, Born Of A Little Sin, I Found A Room All Damp With Gloom And Shut Us All Within; And, "Little Sorrow, Weep," Said I, "And, Little Sin, Pray God To Die, And I Upon The Floor Will Lie And Think How Bad I've Been!" Alas For Pious Planning-- It Mattered Not A Whit! As Far As Gloom Went In That Room, The Lamp Might Have Been Lit! My Little Sorrow Would Not Weep, My Little Sin Would Go To Sleep-- To Save My Soul I Could Not Keep My Graceless Mind On It! So Up I Got In Anger, And Took A Book I Had, And Put A Ribbon On My Hair To Please A Passing Lad, And, "One Thing There'S No Getting By-- I've Been A Wicked Girl," Said I; "But If I Can't Be Sorry, Why, I Might As Well Be Glad!"