T'is True: There's Magic In The Web

My Hands Are Of Your Color, But I Shame To Wear A Heart So White.

Sweets To The Sweet.

Faith, Stay Here This Night; They Will Surely Do Us No Harm; You Saw They Speak Us Fair, Give Us Gold; Methinks They Are Such A Gentle Nation That, But For The Mountain Of Mad Flesh That Claims Marriage Of Me, Could Find In My Heart To Stay Here Still And Turn Witch.

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.

Sweet Are The Uses Of Adversity Which, Like The Toad, Ugly And Venomous, Wears Yet A Precious Jewel In His Head.