What Lovely Things Thy Hand

Slowly, Silently, Now The Moon Walks The Night In Her Silver Shoon.

Three Jolly Huntsmen, In Coats Of Red, Rode Their Horses Up To Bed.

God Has Mercifully Ordered That The Human Brain Works Slowly; First The Blow, Hours Afterwards The Bruise.

Now That Cleverness Was The Fashion Most People Were Clever - Even Perfect Fools; And Cleverness After All Was Often Only A Bore: All Head And No Body

But Beauty Vanishes; Beauty Passes; However Rare Rare It Be; And When I Crumble, Who Will Remember This Lady Of The West Country?