Blessed Are The Peacemakers On Earth.

Open Thy Gate Of Mercy, Gracious God, My Soul Flies Through These Wounds To Seek Out Thee.

O, Swear Not By The Moon, The Fickle Moon, The Inconstant Moon, That Monthly Changes In Her Circle Orb, Lest That Thy Love Prove Likewise Variable

I Will Speak Daggers To Her, But Use None.

My Brain More Busy Than The Labouring Spider Weaves Tedious Snares To Trap Mine Enemies.

They Were Devils Incarnate.