Appetite, A Universal Wolf.

What's More To Do, Which Would Be Planted Newly With The Time, As Calling Home Our Exiled Friends Abroad That Fled The Snares Of Watchful Tyranny, Producing Forth The Cruel Ministers Of This Dead Butcher And His Fiend-like Queen, Who, As 'tis Thought, By Self And Violent Hands Took Off Her Life; This, And What Needful Else That Calls Upon Us, By The Grace Of Grace We Will Perform In Measure, Time, And Place.

When Rich Villains Have Need Of Poor Ones, Poor Ones May Make What Price They Will

Myself Will Straight Aboard, And To The State This Heavy Act With Heavy Heart Relate.

I Am A Feather For Each Wind That Blows

Better Three Hours Too Soon, Than One Hour To Late.