Nothing's So Dainty Sweet As Lovely Melancholy.

Envy, Like The Worm, Never Runs But To The Fairest Fruit; Like A Cunning Bloodhound, It Singles Out The Fattest Deer In The Flock.

Our Lives Are But Our Marches To The Grave.

Daisies Smell-less, Yet Most Quaint, And Sweet Thyme True, Primrose, First Born Child Of Ver, Merry Spring-time's Harbinger.

Nose, Nose, Jolly Red Nose,and Who Gave Thee That Jolly Red Nose?nutmegs And Ginger, Cinammon And Cloves;and They Gave Me This Jolly Red Nose.

Nothing's So Dainty Sweet As Lovely Melancholy.