In The Hour Of My Distress, When

Cherry-ripe, Ripe, Ripe, I Cry, Full And Fair Ones; Come And Buy. If So Be You Ask Me Where They Do Grow, I Answer: There, Where My Julia's Lips Do Smile; There's The Land, Or Cherry-isle, Whose Plantations Fully Show All The Year Where Cherries Grow.

To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time Gather Ye Rose-buds While Ye May, Old Time Is Still A-flying; And This Same Flower That Smiles Today, Tomorrow Will Be Dying. The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun, The Higher He’s A-getting, The Sooner Will His Race Be Run, And Nearer He Is To Setting. That Age Is Best Which Is The First, When Youth And Blood Are Warmer; But Being Spent, The Worse, And Worst Times Still Succeed The Former. Then Be Not Coy, But Use Your Time, And While You May, Go Marry; For Having Lost But Once Your Prime, You May For Ever Tarry.

Give House-room To The Best; 'tis Never Known Verture And Pleasure Both To Dwell In One.

Bid Me To Live, And I Will Livethy Protestant To Be,or Bid Me Love, And I Will Givea Loving Heart To Thee.

When A Daffadill I See, Hanging Down His Head Towards Me, Guess I May, What I Must Be: First, I Shall Decline My Head; Secondly, I Shall Be Dead: Lastly, Safely Buryed.