The Prince Of Darkness Is A Gentleman!

Graze On My Lips; And If Those Hills Be Dry, Stray Lower, Where The Pleasant Fountains Lie.

All Things That We Ordained Festival Turn From Their Office To Black Funeral-- Our Instruments To Melancholy Bells, Our Wedding Cheer To A Sad Burial Feast; Our Solemn Hymns To Sullen Dirges Change; Our Bridal Flowers Serve For A Buried Corse; And All Things Change Them To The Contrary.

And What Art Thou, Thou Idol Ceremony? What Kind Of God Art Thou, That Suffer'st More Of Mortal Griefs Than Do Thy Worshippers?

O Thou Invisible Spirit Of Wine, If Thou Has No Name To Be Known By, Let Us Call Thee Devil....o God, That Men Should Put An Enemy In Their Mouths To Steal Away Their Brains! That We Should, With Joy, Pleasance Revel And Applause, Transform Ourselves Into Beasts!

His Heart As Far From Fraud As Heaven From Earth.