Death Rock Me Asleep.

To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old, For As You Were When First Your Eye I Ey'd, Such Seems Your Beauty Still.

Love Is My Sin, And Thy Dear Virtue Hate, Hate Of My Sin, Grounded On Sinful Loving.

Thy Words, I Grant Are Bigger, For I Wear Not, My Dagger In My Mouth.

When Our Actions Do Not, Our Fears Make Us Traitors.

He Took The Bride About The Neck And Kissed Her Lips With Such A Clamorous Smack That At The Parting All The Church Did Echo.