The Seeming Truth Which Cunning Times Put

The Dear Father Would With His Daughter Speak, Commands Her Service; Are They Inform'd Of This?

The Soul Of This Man Is His Clothes.

My Heart Is Turned To Stone; I Strike It, And It Hurts My Hand.

Get Thee A Good Husband, And Use Him As He Uses Thee.

One Good Deed Dying Tongueless Slaughters A Thousand Waiting Upon That. Our Praises Are Our Wages.