I Don't Need The Stars In The

Much Have I Travell'd In The Realms Of Gold.

A Thing Of Beauty Is A Joy Forever.

I Don't Need The Stars In The Night I Found My Treasure All I Need Is You By My Side So Shine Forever

Season Of Mists And Mellow Fruitfulness, Close Bosom-friend Of The Maturing Sun.

In A Drear-nighted December, Too Happy, Happy Brook, Thy Bubblings Ne'er Remember Apollo's Summer Look; But With A Sweet Forgetting, They Stay Their Crystal Fretting, Never, Never Petting About The Frozen Time.