A Very Little Little Let Us Do

We May Outrun By Violent Swiftness And Lose By Over-running.

I Can Express No Kinder Sign Of Love, Than This Kind Kiss.

I Am That Merry Wanderer Of The Night.

Thus Sometimes Hath The Brightest Day A Cloud; And After Summer Evermore Succeeds Barren Winter, With His Wrathful Nipping Cold: So Cares And Joys Abound, As Seasons Fleet.

Thus Can The Demigod Authority Make Us Pay Down For Our Offense By Weight The Words Of Heaven; On Whom It Will, It Will, On Whom It Will Not, So: Yet Still 'tis Just.