The Face Of Tyranny Is Always Mild

The Glory Of My Name Increases My Shame. Less Known By Mortals, I Could Better Escape Their Eyes.

The Heart That Can No Longer Love Passionately Must With Fury Hate.

I Can Hear Those Glances That You Think Are Silent.

I Loved You When You Were Unfaithful; What Would I Have Done If You Were True?

How Good Is God! How Sweet His Yoke!