But Ne'er The Rose Without The Thorn.

So When Or You Or I Are Made A Fable, Song, Or Fleeting Shade; All Love, All Liking, All Delight Lies Drowned With Us In Endless Night. Then While Time Serves, And We Are But Decaying; Come, My Corinna, Come, Let's Go A Maying.

Bid Me To Live, And I Will Live Thy Protestant To Be: Or Bid Me Love, And I Will Give A Loving Heart To Thee, A Heart As Soft, A Heart As Kind, A Heart As Sound And Free As In The Whole World Thou Canst Find, That Heart I'll Give To Thee.

Learn This Of Me, Where'er Thy Lot Doth Fall, Short Lot, Or Not, To Be Content With All.

But Ne'er The Rose Without The Thorn.

A Spark Neglected Makes A Mighty Fire.