Good Luck Lies In Odd Numbers.

To Kill, I Grant, Is Sin's Extremest Gust; But, In Defence, By Mercy, 'tis Most Just.

He That Dies This Year Is Quit For The Next.

O, Here Will I Set Up My Everlasting Rest, And Shake The Yoke Of Inauspicious Stars From This World-wearied Flesh. Eyes, Look Your Last! Arms, Take Your Last Embrace! And, Lips, O You The Doors Of Breath, Seal With A Righteous Kiss A Dateless Bargain To Engrossing Death!

Comfort's In Heaven, And We Are On The Earth

All Days Are Nights To See Till I See Thee, And Nights Bright Days When Dreams Do Show Thee Me.