How Soar Sweet Music Is, When Time

Now No Way Can I Stray; Save Back To England, All The World's My Way.

There's Small Choice In Rotten Apples.

Thou Ever Young, Fresh, Lov'd, And Delicate Wooer, Whose Blush Doth Thaw The Consecrated Snow

There's Nothing In This World Can Make Me Joy: Life Is As Tedious As A Twice-told Tale Vexing The Dull Ear Of A Drowsy Man; And Bitter Shame Hath Spoil'd The Sweet World's Taste That It Yields Nought But Shame And Bitterness.

Hanging And Wiving Goes By Destiny.