But Ne'er The Rose Without The Thorn.

But Here's The Sunset Of A Tedious Day, These Two Asleep Are; I'll But Be Undrest, And So To Bed. Pray Wish Us All Good Rest.

Her Eyes The Glowworm Lend Thee, The Shooting Stars Attend Thee; And The Elves Also, Whose Little Eyes Glow Like The Sparks Of Fire, Befriend Thee.

So When Or You Or I Are Made A Fable, Song, Or Fleeting Shade; All Love, All Liking, All Delight Lies Drowned With Us In Endless Night. Then While Time Serves, And We Are But Decaying; Come, My Corinna, Come, Let's Go A Maying.

Let's Live With That Small Pittance Which We Have; Who Covets More Is Evermore A Slave.

He Who Has Suffered Shipwreck, Fears To Sail Upon The Seas, Though With A Gentle Gale.