Live How We Can, Yet Die We

I Am Not Of That Feather, To Shake Off My Friend When He Must Need Me

Children Wish Fathers Looked But With Their Eyes; Fathers That Children With Their Judgment Looked; And Either May Be Wrong.

I Will Kill Thee A Hundred And Fifty Ways.

Before, I Loved Thee As A Brother, John, But Now, I Do Respect Thee As My Soul.

It Is My Soul That Calls Upon My Name; How Silver-sweet Sound Lovers' Tongues By Night, Like Softest Music To Attending Ears! -romeo