Those That Do Teach Young Babes Do

That Skull Had A Tongue In It, And Could Sing Once: How The Knave Jowls It To The Ground, As If It Were Cain's Jaw-bone, That Did The First Murder! It Might Be The Pate Of A Politician, Which This Ass Now O'er-reaches; One That Would Circumvent God, Might It Not?

I Am Wrapped In Dismal Thinking.

Why, This Hath Not A Finger's Dignity.

A True Repentance Shuns The Evil Itself, More Than The External Suffering Or The Shame.

Canst Thou Not Minister To A Mind Diseased, Pluck From The Memory A Rooted Sorrow, Raze Out The Written Troubles Of The Brain