O Horror! Horror! Horror! Tongue Nor Heart

Die For Adultery! No: The Wren Goes To't, And The Small Gilded Fly Does Lecher In My Sight

This Is No Time To Lend Money, Especially Upon Bare Friendship Without Security.

Keep Thy Friend Under Thy Own Life's Key.

Under The Greenwood Tree, Who Loves To Lie With Me And Tune His Merry Note, Unto The Sweet Bird's Throat; Come Hither, Come Hither, Come Hither. Here Shall He See No Enemy But Winter And Rough Weather.

Farewell The Plumed Troop, And The Big Wars That Make Ambition Virtue! O, Farewell! Farewell The Neighing Steed And The Shrill Trump, The Spirit-stirring Drum, Th' Ear-piercing Fife, The Royal Banner, And All Quality, Pride, Pomp, And Circumstance Of Glorious War!