Man Is His Own Star, And The

Speak Boldly And Speak Truly, Shame The Devil.

Death Hath So Many Doors To Let Out Life.

Care-charming Sleep, Thou Easer Of All Woes, Brother To Death, Sweetly Thyself Dispose.

We Must Not Be Content To Be Cleansed From Sin; We Must Be Filled With The Spirit.

Joys As Winged Dreams Fly Fast, / Why Should Sadness Longer Last? / Grief Is But A Wound To Woe; / Gentlest Fair, Mourn, Mourn No Moe.