I Had Rather Have A

The Labor We Delight In Physics [cures] Pain.

Do Not Swear By The Moon, For She Changes Constantly. Then Your Love Would Also Change.

You Speak Like A Green Girl / Unsifted In Such Perilous Circumstances.

I Know A Bank Where The Wild Thyme Blows, Where Oxlips And The Nodding Violet Grows, Quite Over-canopied With Luscious Woodbine, With Sweet Musk-roses And With Eglantine.

Talkers Are No Good Doers.