Oh, if it be to choose and call thee mine, love, thou art every day my Valentine!
O men with sisters dear, O men with mothers and wives, It is not linen you 're wearing out, But human creatures' lives!
A certain portion of the human race has certainly a taste for being diddled.
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds - November!
To attempt to advise conceited people is like whistling against the wind.
Boughs are daily rifled By the gusty thieves, And the book of Nature Getteth short of leaves.