Were All The Letters Sun,

O, How Full Of Briers Is This Working-day World!

Before, I Loved Thee As A Brother, John, But Now, I Do Respect Thee As My Soul.

The Web Of Our Life Is Of A Mingled Yarn, Good And Ill Together: Our Virtues Would Be Proud If Our Faults Whipped Them Not; And Our Crimes Would Despair If They Were Not Cherished By Our Own Virtues.

Is She Not Passing Fair?

A Great While Ago The World Begun, With Hey, Ho, The Wind And The Rain; But That's All One, Our Play Is Done, And We'll Strive To Please You Every Day.