How Art Thou Out Of

Most Friendship Is Faining, Most Loving Mere Folly: Then, Heigh-ho, The Holly. This Life Is Most Jolly.

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

The Love Of Heaven Makes One Heavenly.

If There Is A Good Will, There Is Great Way.

So Now I Have Confessed That He Is Thine, And I My Self Am Mortgaged To Thy Will, My Self I'll Forfeit, So That Other Mine, Thou Wilt Restore To Be My Comfort Still.