I Am Sir Oracle, And When I

O War! Thou Son Of Hell!

My Only Love Sprung From My Only Hate.

Your Praises Will Become Your Wages.

Thrice Is He Arm'd That Hath His Quarrel Just, And He But Naked, Though Lock'd Up In Steel, Whose Conscience With Injustice Is Corrupted.

The Path Is Smooth That Leadeth On To Danger.