Were All The Letters Sun, I Could

I Have Touched The Highest Point Of All My Greatness.

No Deeper Wrinkles Yet? Hath Sorrow Struck So Many Blows Upon This Face Of Mine And Made No Deeper Wounds?

Stones Have Been Known To Move And Trees To Speak.

A Peace Is Of The Nature Of A Conquest; For Then Both Parties Nobly Are Subdued, And Neither Party Loser.

When Holy And Devout Religious Men Are At Their Beads, 'tis Hard To Draw Them Thence; So Sweet Is Zealous Contemplation.