The Labor We Delight In Physics [cures]

Instead Of Weeping When A Tragedy Occurs In A Songbird's Life, It Sings Away Its Grief. I Believe We Could Well Follow The Pattern Of Our Feathered Friends.

Give Me My Robe, Put On My Crown; I Have Immortal Longings In Me.

Love Is Like A Child, That Longs For Everything It Can Come By

Jesu, Jesu, The Mad Days That I Have Spent! And To See How Many Of My Old Acquaintance Are Dead!

When Our Actions Do Not, Our Fears Make Us Traitors.