I Hourly Learn A Doctrine Of Obedience.

Time Does Not Have The Same Appeal For Every One

Come, Seeling Night, Scarf Up The Tender Eye Of Pitiful Day, And With Thy Bloody And Invisible Hand Cancel And Tear To Pieces That Great Bond Which Keeps Me Pale. Light Thickens, And The Crow Makes Wing To Th' Rooky Wood. Good Things Of Day Begin To Droop And Drowse, While Night's Black Agents To Their Prey Do Rouse.

Anger's My Meat. I Sup Upon Myself, And So Shall Starve With Feeding.

I Take Thee At Thy Word: Call Me But Love, And I'll Be New Baptized; Henceforth I Never Will Be Romeo.

The Nature Of Bad News Affects The Teller.