Rough Winds Do Shake The Darling Buds

I Am That Merry Wanderer Of The Night.

The Gallantry Of His Grief Did Put Me Into A Towering Passion.

I Care Not, A Man Can Die But Once; We Owe God And Death.

Be As Just And Gracious Unto Me, As I Am Confident And Kind To Thee.

I Love A Ballad But Even Too Well If It Be Doleful Matter Merrily Set Down, Or A Very Pleasant Thing Indeed And Sung Lamentably.