Of All The Flowers, Me Thinks A

Yea From The Table Of My Memory I'll Wipe Away All Trivial Fond Records.

Think'st Thou It Honourable For A Noble Man Still To Remember Wrongs?

Gnawing With My Teeth My Bonds In Sunder, I Gain'd My Freedom.

Speak Low, If You Speak Love.

The Course Of True Love Never Did Run Smooth.