Art Thou Not, Fatal Vision, Sensible To

Watch Tonight, Pray Tomorrow. Gallants, Lads, Boys, Hearts Of Gold, All The Titles Of Good Fellowship Come To You!

How Use Doth Breed A Habit In A Man.

What Freezings I Have Felt, What Dark Days Seen, What Old December's Bareness Everywhere!

At Christmas I No More Desire A Rose Than Wish A Snow In May's New-fangled Mirth; But Like Of Each Thing That In Season Grows.

This Thou Perceivest, Which Makes Thy Love More Strong, To Love That Well Which Thou Must Leave Ere Long