So Our Virtues Lie In The Interpretation

Go Hang Yourself, You Naughty Mocking Uncle!

All The Perfumes Of Arabia Will Not Sweeten This Little Hand! Oh, Oh, Oh!

Some Say That Ever 'gainst The Season Comes Wherein Our Saviour's Birth Is Celebrated, The Bird Of Dawning Singeth All Night Long: And Then, They Say, No Spirit Can Walk Abroad; The Nights Are Wholesome; Then No Planets Strike, No Fairy Takes, Nor Wi

There's Husbandry In Heaven; Their Candles Are All Out.

Under Loves Heavy Burden Do I Sink. --romeo