Things Are Evermore Sincere; / Candor Here,

Tears Are The Noble Language Of The Eye.

Gather Ye Rosebuds, While Ye May.

A Little Saint Best Fits A Little Shrine, A Little Prop Best Fits A Little Vine, As My Small Cruse Best Fits My Little Wine.

For Pitty, Sir, Find Out That Bee Which Bore My Love Away I'le Seek Him In Your Bonnet Brave, I'le Seek Him In Your Eyes.

Happy Is The Bride That The Sun Shines On.