Women May Fall When There's No Strength

Thou Ever Young, Fresh, Lov'd, And Delicate Wooer, Whose Blush Doth Thaw The Consecrated Snow

Is This A Vision? Is This A Dream? Do I Sleep?

Nay, Had I Pow'r, I Should Pour The Sweet Milk Of Concord Into Hell, Uproar The Universal Peace, Confound All Unity On Earth.

I Can Express No Kinder Sign Of Love, Than This Kind Kiss.

Tis A Cruelty To Load A Fallen Man.