All Things Considered, There Are Only Two

Each Dog Barks In His Own Yard!

If I Were Dammed Of Body And Soul, I Know Whose Prayers Would Make Me Whole, Mother O' Mine O Mother O' Mine.

It Was The Forty-fathom Slumber That Clears The Soul And Eye And Heart, And Sends You To Breakfast Ravening.

If England Was What England Seems, An Not The England Of Our Dreams, But Only Putty, Brass, An' Paint, 'ow Quick We'd Chuck 'er! But She Ain't!

Single Men In Barricks Don't Grow Into Plaster Saints.