The Fittest Time To Corrupt A Man's

Bow, Stubborn Knees, And, Heart With Strings Of Steel, Be Soft As Sinews Of The New-born Babe. All Many Be Well.

The Moon, Like To A Silver Bow New Bent In Heaven.

Make The Upcoming Hour Overflow With Joy, And Let Pleasure Drown The Brim.

I Will Be Treble-sinewed, Hearted, Breathed, And Fight Maliciously; For When Mine Hours Were Nice And Lucky, Men Did Ransom Lives Of Me For Jests; But Now I'll Set My Teeth And Send To Darkness All That Stop Me.

Every Fair From Fair Sometime Declines