When Our Actions Do Not, Our Fears

O, Spirit Of Love, How Quick And Fresh Art Thou!

Ambition Should Be Made Of Sterner Stuff.

But When I Came, Alas, To Wive, With Hey, Ho, The Wind And The Rain, By Swaggering Could I Never Thrive, For The Rain It Raineth Every Day.

Absence From Those We Love Is Self From Self - A Deadly Banishment.

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.