Let Us Our Lives, Our Souls, Our

Heaven Give You Many, Many Merry Days.

Foul Whisp'rings Are Abroad.

We Must Every One Be A Man Of His Own Fancy.

Wine Loved I Deeply, Dice Dearly.

This Royal Throne Of Kings, This Sceptered Isle, This Earth Of Majesty, This Seat Of Mars, This Other Eden, Demi-paradise, This Fortress Built By Nature For Herself Against Infection And The Hand Of War, This Happy Breed Of Men, This Little World, This Precious Stone Set In The Silver Sea, Which Serves It In The Office Of A Wall Or As A Moat Defensive To A House, Against The Envy Of Less Happier Lands,--this Blessed Plot, This Earth, This Realm, This England.