I Am Asham'd That Women Are So

O War! Thou Son Of Hell!

Open Thy Gate Of Mercy, Gracious God, My Soul Flies Through These Wounds To Seek Out Thee.

What Is A Man, If His Chief Good And Market Of His Time Be But To Sleep And Feed? A Beast, No More.

The Moon Shines Bright. In Such A Night As This. When The Sweet Wind Did Gently Kiss The Trees And They Did Make No Noise, In Such A Night.

We Are Such Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of.