How Soar Sweet Music Is, When Time

In Springtime, The Only Pretty Ring Time Birds Sing, Hey Ding A-ding, A-ding Sweet Lovers Love The Spring—

I Cannot, Nor I Will Not Hold Me Still; My Tongue, Though Not My Heart, Shall Have His Will.

When Words Are Scarce They Are Seldom Spent In Vain.

Are There No Stones In Heaven But What Serves For Thunder?

How My Achievements Mock Me!