Fruits That Blossom First Will First Be

He Must Needs Go That The Devil Drives.

A Wicked Conscience Mouldeth Goblins Swift As Frenzy Thoughts.

To Say The Truth, So Judas Kissed His Master And Cried, 'all Hail!' When As He Meant All Harm.

She Marking Them Begins A Wailing Note And Sings Extemporally A Woeful Ditty How Love Makes Young Men Thrall And Old Men Dote How Love Is Wise In Folly, Foolish-witty Her Heavy Anthem Still Concludes In Woe, And Still The Choir Of Echoes Answer So.

So Well Thy Words Become Thee As Thy Wounds.