For Sorrow Ends Not, When It Seemeth

How Much An Ill Word May Empoison Liking!

The Sudden Hand Of Death Close Up Mine Eye!

Tis Safter To Be That Which We Destroy Than By Destruction Dwell In Doubtful Joy.

There's No Art To Find The Mind's Construction In The Face.

O God Of Battles! Steel My Soldiers’ Hearts. Possess Them Not With Fear.