Courage And Comfort, All Shall Yet Go

Beggar That I Am, I Am Even Poor In Thanks, But I Thank You; And Sure, Dear Friends, My Thanks Are Too Dear A Halfpenny.

I Am A Foe To Tyrants, And My Country's Friend.

Who Can Control His Fate?

You Are Yoked With A Lamb, That Carries Anger As The Flint Bears Fire; Who, Much Enforced, Shows A Hasty Spank, And Straight Is Cold Again.

Flower Of This Purple Dye, Hit With Cupid's Archery, Sink In Apple Of His Eye.