The Horn, The Horn, The Lusty Horn

The Smallest Worm Will Turn Being Trodden On, And Doves Will Peck In Safeguard Of Their Brood.

Patch Up Thine Old Body For Heaven.

The Very Instant I Saw You, Did My Heart Fly To Your Service; There Resides To Make Me Slave To It. ...mine Unworthiness, That Dare Not Offer What I Desire To Give, And Much Less Take What I Shall Die To Want.

Omission To Do What Is Necessary Seals A Commission To A Blank Of Danger; And Danger, Like An Ague, Subtly Taints Even Then When We Sit Idly In The Sun.

We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On; And Our Little Life Is Rounded With A Sleep.