Fear And Niceness, The Handmaids Of All

Methinks Sometimes I Have No More Wit Than A Christian.

He Lives In Fame That Died In Virtue's Cause.

Bow, Stubborn Knees, And, Heart With Strings Of Steel, Be Soft As Sinews Of The New-born Babe. All Many Be Well.

When My Love Swears That She Is Made Of Truth, I Do Believe Her, Though I Know She Lies.

For Precious Friends Hid In Death's Dateless Night.