And Makes Me Poor Indeed.

The Man That Hath No Music In Himself

My Hands Are Of Your Color, But I Shame To Wear A Heart So White.

Care Keeps His Watch In Every Old Man’s Eye, And Where Care Lodges, Sleep Will Never Lie.

To Saucy Doubts And Fears.

God Is Our Fortress, In Whose Conquering Name Let Us Resolve To Scale Their Flinty Bulwarks.