If You Are For A Merry Jaunt,

For They Can Conquer Who Believe They Can.

Roused By The Lash Of His Own Stubborn Tail Our Lion Now Will Foreign Foes Assail.

Raw In The Fields The Rude Militia Swarms, Mouth Without Hands; Maintained At Vast Expense, In Peace A Charge, In War A Weak Defence.

Whatever Is, Is In Its Causes Just.

Whistling To Keep Myself From Being Afraid.