To Fear The Foe, Since Fear Oppresseth

But Men Are Men; The Best Sometimes Forget.

When I Have Plucked The Rose, I Cannot Give It Vital Growth Again, It Needs Must Wither. I'll Smell It On The Tree.

Why, Thou Deboshed Fish Thou...wilt Thou Tell A Monstrous Lie, Being But Half A Fish And Half A Monster?

Put Forth Thy Hand, Reach At The Glorious Gold.

Present Fears Are Less Than Horrible Imaginings.