Their Lips Were Four Red Roses On

Though I Am Not Naturally Honest, I Am Sometimes So By Chance.

Sufferance Is The Badge Of All Our Tribe.

The Benediction Of These Covering Heavens Fall On Their Heads Like Dew, For They Are Worthy To Inlay Heaven With Stars.

Love Is A Smoke Made With The Fume Of Sighs.

Out Of My Sight! Thou Dost Infect Mine Eyes.