Grace Me No Grace, Nor Uncle Me

Yet Do I Fear Thy Nature; It Is Too Full O' The Milk Of Human Kindness.

There's Place And Means For Every Man Alive.

He Is Not Worthy Of The Honey-comb, That Shuns The Hives Because The Bees Have Stings.

A Noble Shalt Thou Have, And Present Pay; And Liquor Likewise Will I Give To Thee, And Friendship Shall Combine, And Brotherhood.

Till Our King Henry Had Shook Hands With Death.