Nay, I Am The Very Pink Of

A Young Woman In Love Always Looks Like Patience On A Monument Smiling At Grief

The Old Folk, Time's Doting Chronicles.

When Daffodils Begin To Peer, With Heigh! The Doxy, Over The Dale, Why, Then Comes In The Sweet O' The Year; For The Red Blood Reigns In The Winter's Pale. The White Sheet Bleaching On The Hedge, With Heigh! The Sweet Birds, O, How They Sing! Doth Set My Pugging Tooth On Edge; For A Quart Of Ale Is A Dish For A King.

Charity Itself Fulfills The Law. And Who Can Sever Love From Charity?

Such As We Are Made Of, Such We Be.