Lords Are Lordliest In Their Wine.

These Are Thy Glorious Works, Parent Of Good!

Sport, That Wrinkled Care Derides, And Laughter Holding Both His Sides. Come And Trip It As Ye Go, On The Light Fantastic Toe.

Biochemically, Love Is Just Like Eating Large Amounts Of Chocolate.

And The Jocund Rebecks Sound To Many A Youth, And Many A Maid, Dancing In The Checkered Shade. And Young And Old Come Forth To Play On A Sunshine Holiday.

Fairest Of Stars, Last In The Train Of Night, If Better Thou Belong Not To The Dawn.