Wisdom Cries Out In The Streets, And

Discomfort Guides My Tongue And Bids Me Speak Of Nothing But Despair.

Here, Thou Incestuous, Murderous, Damned Dane, Drink Off This Potion!

So Shaken As We Are, So Wan With Care, Find We A Time For Frighted Peace To Pant And Breathe Short-winded Accents Of New Broils To Be Commenced In Stronds Afar Remote.

For Truth Hath Better Deeds Than Words To Grace It.

There Is No More Mercy In Him Than There Is Milk In A Male Tiger.