Words Pay No Debts, Give Her Deeds.

There's Villainous News Abroad.

Love Thrives Not In The Heart That Shadows Dreadeth

I Do Beseech You- Though I Perchance Am Vicious In My Guess , That Your Wisdom Yet From One That So Imperfectly Conjects Would Take No Notice, Nor Build Yourself A Trouble Out Of His Scattering And Unsure Observance.

I Humbly Do Beseech Of Your Pardon, For Too Much Loving You

I Do I Know Not What, And Fear To Find Mine Eye Too Great A Flatterer For My Mind. Fate, Show Thy Force. Ourselves We Do Not Owe. What Is Decreed Must Be; And Be This So.