To Weep Is To Make Less The

I Despised My Arrival On This Earth And I Despise My Departure; It Is A Tragedy.

Under The Greenwood Tree, Who Loves To Lie With Me And Tune His Merry Note, Unto The Sweet Bird's Throat; Come Hither, Come Hither, Come Hither. Here Shall He See No Enemy But Winter And Rough Weather.

O Time, Thou Must Untangle This, Not I. It Is Too Hard A Knot For Me T'untie.

Unsubstantial Death Is Amorous.

For Which Of My Bad Parts Didst Thou First Fall In Love With Me?