By Heaven, I Love Thee Better Than

Heaven Take My Soul, And England Keep My Bones!

A Very Scurvy Fellow.

Under The Greenwood Tree, Who Loves To Lie With Me And Tune His Merry Note, Unto The Sweet Bird's Throat; Come Hither, Come Hither, Come Hither. Here Shall He See No Enemy But Winter And Rough Weather.

What The Vengeance, Could He Not Speak 'em Fair?

The Cat Will Mew, And Dog Will Have His Day.