The Grey Mare Is The

Be Of Comfort, And Your Heavy Sorrow Part Equally Among Us; Storms Divided, Abate Their Force, And With Less Rage Are Guided.

Follow Pleasure, And Then Will Pleasure Flee, Flee Pleasure, And Pleasure Will Follow Thee.

All A Green Willow, Willow, All A Green Willow Is My Garland.

It Had Need To Bee A Wylie Mouse That Should Breed In The Cats Eare.

Would Ye Both Eat Your Cake And Have Your Cake?