Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end.

A pin has a head, but has no hair

Why does the sea moan evermore? Shut out from heaven it makes its moan, It frets against the boundary shore; All earth's full rivers cannot fill The sea, that drinking thirsteth still.

The loves that meet in Paradise shall cast out fear, And Paradise hath room for you and me and all.

Oh roses for the flush of youth, And laurel for the perfect prime; But pluck an ivy branch for me Grown old before my time.

It's surely summer. for there's a swallow: Come one swallow, his mate will follow, The bird race quicken and wheel and thicken.

And may you happy live, And long us bless.