Wisdom Cries Out In The Streets, And

I Am Thy Father's Spirit; Doom'd For A Certain Term To Walk The Night And, For The Day, Confin'd To Fast In Fires, Till The Foul Crimes, Done In My Days Of Nature, Are Burnt And Purg'd Away.

Each Present Joy Or Sorrow Seems The Chief.

He That Is Truly Dedicated To War Hath No Self-love

God Send Everyone Their Heart's Desire!

Not All The Water In The Rough Rude Sea Can Wash The Balm From An Anointed King.