Well I Sup And Well I Dine,

Whatever Comes, Let's Be Content Withal: Among God's Blessings There Is No One Small.

Her Eyes The Glowworm Lend Thee, The Shooting Stars Attend Thee; And The Elves Also, Whose Little Eyes Glow Like The Sparks Of Fire, Befriend Thee.

Cherry-ripe, Ripe, Ripe, I Cry, Full And Fair Ones; Come And Buy. If So Be You Ask Me Where They Do Grow, I Answer: There, Where My Julia's Lips Do Smile; There's The Land, Or Cherry-isle, Whose Plantations Fully Show All The Year Where Cherries Grow.

Outdid The Meat, Outdid The Frolic Wine.

In Prayer The Lips Ne'er Act The Winning Part, Without The Sweet Concurrence Of The Heart.