Here I And Sorrows Sit; Here Is

I Have A Kind Soul That Would Give You Thanks. And Knows Not How To Do It But With Tears.

I Love A Ballad But Even Too Well If It Be Doleful Matter Merrily Set Down, Or A Very Pleasant Thing Indeed And Sung Lamentably.

There's Nothing In This World Can Make Me Joy: Life Is As Tedious As A Twice-told Tale Vexing The Dull Ear Of A Drowsy Man; And Bitter Shame Hath Spoil'd The Sweet World's Taste That It Yields Nought But Shame And Bitterness.

'tis The Soldier's Life To Have Their Balmy Slumbers Waked With Strife.

Let Us Our Lives, Our Souls, Our Debts, Our Careful Wives, Our Children, And Our Sins, Lay On The King!