The Horn, The Horn, The Lusty Horn

The Moon, Like To A Silver Bow New Bent In Heaven.

Coal-black Is Better Than Another Hue In That It Scorns To Bear Another Hue; For All The Water In The Ocean Can Never Turn The Swan's Black Legs To White, Although She Lave Them Hourly In The Flood.

Comfort's In Heaven, And We Are On The Earth

The Horn, The Horn, The Lusty Horn Is Not A Thing To Laugh To Scorn.

Drink, Sir, Is A Great Provoker Of Three Things . . . Nose-painting, Sleep, And Urine. Lechery, Sir, It Provokes, And Unprovokes; It Provokes The Desire, But It Takes Away The Performance.