Love Asks Me No Questions, And Gives

Tis Now The Very Witching Time Of Night, When Churchyards Yawn And Hell Itself Breathes Out Contagion To This World.

Heaven Truly Knows That Thou Art False As Hell.

Truth Will Come To Sight; Murder Cannot Be Hid Long.

Well Could He Ride, And Often Men Would Say, "that Horse His Mettle From His Rider Takes: Proud Of Subjection, Noble By The Sway, What Rounds, What Bounds, What Course, What Stop He Makes!" And Controversy Hence A Question Takes, Whether The Horse By Him Became His Deed, Or He His Manage By The Well-doing Steed.

And All My Mother Came Into Mine Eyes And Gave Me Up To Tears.