. . . Change Is The Nursery

And To 'scape Stormy Days, I Choose An Everlasting Night.

Only Our Love Hath No Decay; This, No Tomorrow Hath, Nor Yesterday, Running It Never Runs From Us Away, But Truly Keeps His First, Last, Everlasting Day.

Death, Thou Shalt Die.

Reason Is Our Soul's Left Hand, Faith Her Right, By These We Reach Divinity

Men Perish With Whispering Sins-nay, With Silent Sins, Sins That Never Tell The Conscience That They Are Sins, As Often With Crying Sins; And In Hell There Shall Meet As Many Men That Never Thought What Was Sin, As That Spent All Their Thoughts In The Compassing Of Sin.