Where Hateful Death Put On His Ugliest

And When Love Speaks, The Voice Of All The Gods Makes Heaven Drowsy With The Harmony.

...and Then, In Dreaming, / The Clouds Methought Would Open And Show Riches / Ready To Drop Upon Me, That When I Waked / I Cried To Dream Again.

In The Modesty Of Fearful Duty, I Read As Much As From The Rattling Tongue Of Saucy And Audacious Eloquence.

The Peace Of Heaven Is Theirs That Lift Their Swords, In Such A Just And Charitable War.

A Maiden Hath No Tongue--but Thought.