Falsehood Falsehood Cures

I'll Say She Looks As Clear As Morning Roses Newly Washed With Dew.

An Old Man, Broken With The Storms Of State, Is Come To Lay His Weary Bones Among Ye; Give Him A Little Earth For Charity!

One Sin, I Know, Another Doth Provoke. Murder's As Near To Lust As Flame To Smoke.

The Hideous God Of War.

A Man Cannot Make Him Laugh - But That's No Marvel; He Drinks No Wine.