The words 'far, far away' had always a strange charm.

Jewels five-words-long, That on the stretch'd forefinger of all Time Sparkle forever.

Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange.

Happy days roll onward leading up to golden years.

Man is the hunter; women are the game; those sleek and shining creatures of the chase. We hunt them for the beauty of their skins; they love us for it, and we ride them down.

A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair.

Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.