Give Me My Sin Again.

New Customs, Though They Be Never So Ridiculous (nay, Let Em Be Unmanly), Yet Are Followed.

No Might Nor Greatness In Mortality Can Censure 'scape; Back- Wounding Calumny The Whitest Virtue Strikes. What King So Strong Can Tie The Gall Up In The Slanderous Tongue?

Say As You Think And Speak It From Your Souls.

If Music Be The Food Of Love, Play On.

Hang There Like Fruit, My Soul, Till The Tree Die!