Fair Is The Kingcup That In Meadow

My Lodging Is On The Cold Ground, And Hard, Very Hard, Is My Fare, But That Which Grieves Me More Is The Coldness Of My Dear.

The Charge Is Prepared; The Lawyers Are Met; The Judges All Ranged (a Terrible Show!) I Go, Undismay'd. For Death Is A Debt, A Debt On Demand. So Take What I Owe.

Whence Is Thy Learning? Hath Thy Toil O'er Books Consumed The Midnight Oil?

And When A Lady's In The Case, You Know, All Other Things Give Place.

Who Talks Much, Must Talk In Vain.