Rough Winds Do Shake The

The Time Of Universal Peace Is Near. Prove This A Prosp'rous Day, The Three-nooked World Shall Bear The Olive Freely.

Instead Of Weeping When A Tragedy Occurs In A Songbird's Life, It Sings Away Its Grief. I Believe We Could Well Follow The Pattern Of Our Feathered Friends.

Nothing Comes Amiss, So Money Comes Withal.

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

When He Shall Die, Take Him And Cut Him Out In Little Stars, And He Will Make The Face Of Heaven So Fine That All The World Will Be In Love With Night And Pay No Worship To The Garish Sun.