I Would Fain Die A Dry Death.

Fire That's Closest Kept Burns Most Of All.

I Will Despair, And Be At Enmity With Cozening Hope.

Better Be With The Dead, Whom We To Gain Our Peace, Have Sent To Peace, Than On The Torture Of The Mind To Lie In Restless Ecstasy.

They Are But Beggars That Can Count Their Worth.

An Old Black Ram Is Tupping Your White Ewe