My Love To Thee Is Sound, Sans

She's Good, Being Gone.

Ill Deeds Are Doubled With An Evil Word.

Like The Lily That Once Was Mistress Of The Field And Flourished, I'll Hang My Head And Perish.

I Am Misanthropos, And Hate Mankind, For Thy Part, I Do Wish Thou Wert A Dog, That I Might Love Thee Something.

Plutus Himself, That Knows The Tinct And Multiplying Med'cine, Hath Not In Nature's Mystery More Science Than I Have In This Ring.