I Scorn You, Scurvy Companion.

Love All, Trust A Few, Do Wrong To None.

A Turn Or Two I'll Walk To Still My Beating Mind.

A Woman Impudent And Mannish Grown Is Not More Loath'd Than An Effeminate Man.

Although The Last, Not Least.

My Lord, They Say Five Moons Were Seen To-night-- Four Fixed, And The Fifth Did Whirl About The Other Four In Wondrous Motion.