For A Ballad's A Thing You Expect

There's Luck In Odd Numbers.

I'll Seek A Four Leaved Shamrock In All Thy Fairy Dells, And If I Find The Charmed Leaves, Oh, How I'll Weave My Spells!

A Baby Was Sleeping, Its Mother Was Weeping.

Sure My Love Is All Crostlike A Bud In The Frostand There's No Use At All In My Going To Bed,for 't Is Dhrames And Not Slape That Comes Into My Head!

Too Little Is It Considered, While We Gaze On Aristocratic Beauty, How Much Good Food, Soft Lying, Warm Wrapping, Ease Of Mind, Have To Do With The Attractions Which Command Our Admiration.