Painters And Poets Have Liberty

My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose That's Newly Sprung In June: My Love Is Like The Melody That's Sweetly Played In Tune. How Fair Art Thou, My Bonnie Lass, So Deep In Love Am I; And I Will Love Thee Still, My Dear, Till All The Seas Gang Dry. Till All The Seas Gang Dry, My Dear, And The Rocks Melt With The Sun; I Will Love Thee Still, My Dear, While The Sands Of Life Shall Run. And Fare Thee Weel, My Only Love. And Fare Thee Weel Awhile! And I Will Come Again, My Love, Though It Were Ten Thousand Mile.

What Is Life, When Wanting Love? Night Without A Morning; Love's The Cloudless Summer Sun, Nature Gay Adorning.

Firmness In Enduring And Exertion Is A Character I Always Wish To Possess. I Have Always Despised The Whining Yelp Of Complaint And Cowardly Resolve.

The Snowdrop And Primrose Our Woodlands Adorn, And Violets Bathe In The Wet O' The Morn.

Now Nature Hangs Her Mantle Green On Every Blooming Tree, And Spreads Her Sheets O'daisies White Out O'er The Grassy Lea.