For men must work and women must weep, And the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep.

Gradually the sunken land begins to rise again, and falls perhaps again, and rises again after that, more and more gently each time, till as it were the panting earth, worn out with the fierce passions of her fiery youth, has sobbed herself to sleep once more, and this new world of man is made.

All we need to make us really happy is something to be enthusiastic about.

O Mary, go and call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, Across the sands o' Dee!

All the butterflies and cockyolybirds would fly past me.

For men must work and women must weep, And the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep.

Three fishers went sailing away to the west,/ Away to the west as the sun went down.