O, Spirit Of Love, How Quick And

Yet Who Would Have Thought The Old Man To Have Had So Much Blood In Him? - Lady Macbeth

O, Spirit Of Love, How Quick And Fresh Art Thou!

For The Poor Wren (the Most Diminutive Of Birds) Will Fight, Her Young Ones In Her Nest, Against The Owl.

Perseverance, My Dear Lord. Keeps Honour Bright.

Give Me A Staff Of Honor For Mine Age, But Not A Sceptre To Control The World.