Well, I am going to be literal & mention single lines:

Walking in his footsteps in the sweet delta dawn.
Married girl, married girl, rocks the cradle and cries.
I'll get myself up in some right high degree
O Thou Who changest not, abide with me.
Too late, my brothers! Too late, but never mind.
Some helped in small ways, some helped in hallways
I hear the noise of wings.
If ever you heard a little dog bark
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with His heel
She makes a small hole in the frost on the window
I've looked on love from both sides now
Say, don't you remember? I'm your pal.
Da ya kuryashchaya
Where many a rooster like himself sat waiting for his tea
And so far no dead ends
The sun shines owre the westlin hills by the lamplicht o the moon
First flower of their wilderness, star of their night
Then turn your high horse heid about
The man o independent mind
Her hair shone like gold in the hot morning sun
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.
I have been a good boy, and done what was expected.
Get in there and blow out the light.
I'd walk on down that silver lane
Life is a toil, and love is a trouble
Since love is lord of heaven and earth
And now I have lived, I know not how long
Tie my bones to his back, turn our faces to the west
And you the foremost o' them a' shall ride our forest queen
Die Liebe dauert oder dauert nicht
And turns to put the mirror gently face down by the stove
"Es kann drei Tage kosten." "Kam'rad, ich komme gleich."
And some of them will marry, and one will marry me.
Give motherlove and lumpytums.
I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land.
Tonight there'll be but three.
He was born on land, but he sure enjoys the skies.
The silent stars go by
And here comes the chopper to chop off your head.
Alas! it was to none but me.
Rechka dvizhitsa i ne dvizhitsa,
Your face will shine through all our tears
And mother catechises me till I want to go out and swear
A dragon lives forever, but not so, little boys
This world is a world of lies
Rozhenkes mit mandeln
Put my boots on tall, read the writing on the wall
Greasy rails, red clay trails
Chickens crowing on Sourwood Mountain
Sweet whips, ding-dong
Que je me souviens eux.
And our friends in South America, though them we never saw