Time And The Hour Run Through The

Make Not Your Thoughts Your Prisons.

Now I Am Past All Comforts Here, But Prayer.

Here's That Which Is Too Weak To Be A Sinner, Honest Water, Which Ne'er Left Man I' The Mire.

Would The Cook Were O' My Mind!

I Had Rather Have A Fool To Make Me Merry Than Experience To Make Me Sad And To Travel For It Too!