But Like Of Each Thing That In

Ready To Go But Never To Return.

My Charity Is Outrage, Life My Shame; And In That Shame Still Live My Sorrow's Rage!

At This Hour Lie At My Mercy All Mine Enemies.

May Never Glorious Sun Reflex His Beams Upon The Country Where You Make Abode! But Darkness And The Gloomy Shade Of Death Environ You Till Mischief And Despair Drive You To Break Your Necks Or Hang Yourselves.

In Springtime, The Only Pretty Ring Time Birds Sing, Hey Ding A-ding, A-ding Sweet Lovers Love The Spring—