The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a… For you but not for me: And the little devils how they sin… For you but not for me. O death, where is thy sting-a-ling…
A moth, I thogh, munching a word. How marvellously weird! a worm Digesting a mans sayings - A sneakthief nibbling in the shado… At the shape of a poet’s thunderou…
SHALL I thus ever long, and be… And shall I still complain to the… Alas! say nay! say nay! and be… But open thou thy manly mouth and… Whereby my heart may think, alt…
‘O WHA will shoe my bonny foot? And wha will glove my hand? And wha will bind my middle jimp Wi’ a lang, lang linen band? ‘O wha will kame my yellow hair,
Two sticks and an apple, Ring the bells at Whitechapel. Old Father Bald Pate, Ring the bells Aldgate. Maids in white aprons,
I SAW my Lady weep, And Sorrow proud to be advanced s… In those fair eyes where all perfe… Her face was full of woe; But such a woe (believe me) as win…
I went to a party, Mom, I remembered what you said. You told me not to drink, Mom, So I drank soda instead. I really felt proud inside, Mom,
I know a funny little man, As quiet as a mouse, Who does the mischief that is done In everybody’s house. There’s no one ever sees his face,
Moo, moo, brown cow Have you any milk? Yes miss, three jugs smooth as sil… One for you, And one for me,
I WISH I were where Helen lies, Night and day on me she cries; O that I were where Helen lies, On fair Kirconnell lea! Curst be the heart that thought th…
ON a time the amorous Silvy Said to her shepherd, ‘Sweet, how… Kiss me this once and then God be… My sweetest dear! Kiss me this once and then God be…
It takes strength to be firm, it t… It takes strength to conquer, it t… It takes strength to be certain, i… It takes strength to fit in, it ta… It takes strength to feel a friend…
BALOW, my babe, lie still and sl… It grieves me sore to see thee wee… Wouldst thou be quiet I’se be gla… Thy mourning makes my sorrow sad: Balow my boy, thy mother’s joy,
Lend a hand to one another In the daily toil of life; When we meet a weaker brother, Let us help him in the strife. There is none so rich but may,
SAYS Tweed to Till— ‘What gars ye rin sae still?’ Says Till to Tweed— ‘Though ye rin with speed And I rin slaw,
