For Dhrames Always Go By Conthraries, My

I'll Seek A Four Leaved Shamrock In All Thy Fairy Dells, And If I Find The Charmed Leaves, Oh, How I'll Weave My Spells!

Reproof On Her Lip, But A Smile In Her Eye.

Where's The Snow That Fell The Year That's Fled--where's The Snow?

Better To Be Safe Than Sorry.

Sure The Shovel And Tongs To Each Other Belongs.