I Hate The Murderer, Love Him Murdered.

Be Bloody, Bold, And Resolute; Laugh To Scorn The Power Of Man.

Nymph, In Thy Orisons Be All My Sins Remembered!

You Peasant Swain! You Whoreson Malt-horse Drudge!

Too Nice, And Yet Too True!

My Falcon Now Is Sharp And Passing Empty, And Till She Stoop She Must Not Be Full-gorged, For Then She Never Looks Upon Her Lure.