Will You Walk Out Of The Air,

They Are Fairies; He That Speaks To Them Shall Die. I'll Wink And Couch; No Man Their Works Must Eye.

Silence Is The Perfect Herald Of Joy.

Set We Forward; Let A Roman And A British Ensign Wave Friendly Together. So Through Lud's Town March, And In The Temple Of The Great Jupiter Our Peace We'll Ratify, Seal It With Feasts. Set On There! Never Was A War Did Cease, Ere Bloody Hands Were Washed, With Such A Peace.

Like Patience Gazing On Kings' Graves, And Smiling Extremity Out Of Act.

Barnes Are Blessings.