A Pox O’ Your Throat, You Bawling,

Master, Go On, And I Will Follow Thee To The Last Gasp With Truth And Loyalty.

Of All The Flowers, Me Thinks A Rose Is Best.

'tis Thought The King Is Dead; We Will Not Stay. The Bay Trees In Our Country Are All Wither'd.

I Am A Foe To Tyrants, And My Country's Friend.

Were Kisses All The Joys In Bed, One Woman Would Another Wed.