I Am Sure Care's An

Come, Woo Me, Woo Me, For Now I Am In A Holiday Humor, And Like Enough To Consent.

My Age Is As A Lusty Winter, Frosty But Kindly.

They Have A Plentiful Lack Of Wit.

France Is A Dog-hole, And It No More Merits The Tread Of A Man's Foot.

They Are Fairies; He That Speaks To Them Shall Die. I'll Wink And Couch; No Man Their Works Must Eye.