All Things Are Ready, If

When Daffodils Begin To Peer, With Heigh! The Doxy, Over The Dale, Why, Then Comes In The Sweet O' The Year; For The Red Blood Reigns In The Winter's Pale. The White Sheet Bleaching On The Hedge, With Heigh! The Sweet Birds, O, How They Sing! Doth Set My Pugging Tooth On Edge; For A Quart Of Ale Is A Dish For A King.

But Thought's The Slave Of Life, And Life Time's Fool.

Lovers Ever Run Before The Clock

The One I Love Is The Son Of The One I Hate! -juliet P. 75

The Labor We Delight In Physics [cures] Pain.