White In The Moon The

Ale, Man, Ale's The Stuff To Drink For Fellows Whom It Hurts To Think.

Could Man Be Drunk For Ever With Liquor, Love, Or Fights, Lief Should I Rouse At Morning And Lief Lie Down Of Nights. But Men At Whiles Are Sober And Think By Fits And Starts, And If They Think, They Fasten Their Hands Upon Their Hearts.

Loveliest Of Trees, The Cherry Now Is Hung With Bloom Along The Bough, And Stands About The Woodland Ride Wearing White For Eastertide. Now, Of My Threescore Years And Ten, Twenty Will Not Come Again, And Take From Seventy Springs A Score, It Only Leaves Me Fifty More. And Since To Look At Things In Bloom Fifty Springs Are Little Room, About The Woodlands I Will Go To See The Cherry Hung With Snow.

And Malt Does More Than Milton Can To Justify God's Ways To Man.

The House Of Delusions Is Cheap To Build But Drafty To Live In.