Good Things Should Be Praised.

Death Rock Me Asleep.

Your Lordship, Though Not Clean Past Your Youth, Have Yet Some Smack Of Age In You, Some Relish Of The Saltiness Of Time.

No .... Holy Father, Throw Away That Thought. Believe Not That The Dribbling Dart Of Love Can Pierce A Complete Bosom.

I Cannot Do It Without Comp[u]ters.

Discuss Unto Me: Art Thou Officer, Or Art Thou Base, Common, And Popular?