Love is a flame to set the will on fire

All I ask is a tall ship and a star to sail her by.

Off Cape Horn there are but two kinds of weather, neither one of them a pleasant kind.

And he who gives a child a treat Makes joy-bells ring in Heaven's street, And he who gives a child a home Builds palaces in Kingdom come, And she who gives a baby birth Brings Saviour Christ again to Earth.

Success is the brand on the brow of the man who aimed too low.

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French.