Appetite, A Universal Wolf.

What's Gone, And What's Past Help, Should Be Past Grief.

Fight Valiantly To-day; And Yet I Do Thee Wrong To Mind Thee Of It, For Thou Art Framed Of The Firm Truth Of Valor.

Sweet Recreation Barred, What Doth Ensue But Moody And Dull Melancholy, Kinsman To Grim And Comfortless Despair.

Oh, I Am Fortune's Fool!

The Pow'r That I Have On You Is To Spare You; The Malice Towards You To Forgive You.