That Perfect Bliss And Sole Felicity, The

Is It Not Passing Brave To Be A King And Ride In Triumph Through Persepolis?

Jigging Veins Of Rhyming Mother Wits.

Unhappy Spirits That Fell With Lucifer, / Conspired Against Our God With Lucifer, / And Are For Ever Damned With Lucifer.

I Am Envy, Begotten Of A Chimney-sweeper And An Oyster-wife. I Cannot Read, And Therefore Wish All Books Were Burnt; I Am Lean With Seeing Others Eat - O That There Would Come A Famine Through All The World, That All Might Die, And I Live Alone; Then Thou Should'st See How Fat I Would Be! But Must Thou Sit And I Stand? Come Down, With A Vengeance!

Nothing Violent, Oft Have I Heard Tell, Can Be Permanent.