In Durance Vile 1here Must I Wake

What's Done We Partly May Compute, But Know Not What's Resisted.

Once Upon A Lammas Night When Corn Rigs Are Bonny, Beneath The Moon's Unclouded Light, I Held Awhile To Annie... The Time Went By With Careless Heed Between The Late And Early, With Small Persuasion She Agreed To See Me Through The Barley... Corn Rigs And Barley Rigs, Corn Rigs Are Bonny! I'll Not Forget That Happy Night Among The Rigs With Annie!

The Landlord's Laugh Was Ready Chorus.

The Snowdrop And Primrose Our Woodlands Adorn, And Violets Bathe In The Wet O' The Morn.

I Love Drinking Now And Then. It Defecates The Standing Pool Of Thought. A Man Perpetually In The Paroxysm And Fears Of Inebriety Is Like A Half-drowned Stupid Wretch Condemned To Labor Unceasingly In Water; But A Now-and-then Tribute To Bacchus Is Like The Cold Bath, Bracing And Invigorating.