What Is Done Cannot Be Now Amended.

She Dreams Of Him That Has Forgot Her Love; You Dote On Her That Cares Not For Your Love. 'tis Pity Love Should Be So Contrary; And Thinking Of It Makes Me Cry 'alas!

The Force Of His Own Merit Makes His Way-a Gift That Heaven Gives For Him.

The Worm Is Not To Be Trusted.

I Shall Show The Cinders Of My Spirits Through The Ashes Of My Chance.

There Is No Creature Loves Me; And If I Die, No Soul Will Pity Me.