Of All Base Passions, Fear Is The

Let's All Cry Peace, Freedom, And Liberty!

So Holy And So Perfect Is My Love, And I In Such A Poverty Of Grace, That I Shall Think It A Most Plenteous Crop To Glean The Broken Ears After The Man That The Main Harvest Reaps.

To Show Our Simple Skill, That Is The True Beginning Of Our End.

She Speaks Poniards, And Every Word Stabs.

Hot And Hasty, Like A Scotch Jig.