In Sober Mornings Do Not Thou Rehearse

In Ways To Greatness Think On This, That Slippery All Ambition Is

Conquer We Shall, But, We Must First Contend! It's Not The Fight That Crowns Us, But The End.

You Say To Me-wards Your Affection's Strong; Pray Love Me Little, So You Love Me Long.

Some Asked Me Where The Rubies Grew, And Nothing I Did Say; But With My Finger Pointed To The Lips Of Julia.

Cherry-ripe, Ripe, Ripe, I Cry, Full And Fair Ones; Come And Buy. If So Be You Ask Me Where They Do Grow, I Answer: There, Where My Julia's Lips Do Smile; There's The Land, Or Cherry-isle, Whose Plantations Fully Show All The Year Where Cherries Grow.