An Two Men Ride Of A Horse,

And I Will Make It Felony To Drink Small Beer.

Thou Whoreson Zed! Thou Unnecessary Letter!

O No, Thy Love Though Much, Is Not So Great, It Is My Love That Keeps Mine Eye Awake, Mine Own True Love That Doth My Rest Defeat, To Play The Watchman Ever For Thy Sake. For Thee Watch I, Whilst Thou Dost Wake Elsewhere, From Me Far Off, With Others All Too Near.

Ingrateful Man With Liquorish Draughts, And Morsels Unctuous, Greases His Pure Mind That From It All Consideration Slips.

When Workmen Strive To Do Better Than Well, They Do Confound Their Skill In Covetousness.