Our Holy Lives Must Win A New

Well-apparel'd April On The Heel Of Limping Winter Treads.

Sweets Grown Common Lose Their Dear Delight.

The World Is Not Thy Friend, Nor The World's Law. - Romeo

Here Is A Rural Fellow That Will Not Be Denied Your Highness' Presence: He Brings You Figs.

Poise The Cause In Justice's Equal Scales, Whose Beam Stands Sure, Whose Rightful Cause Prevails.