My Love Is As A Fever, Longing

Every True Man's Apparel Fits Your Thief.

Not An Angel Of The Air, Bird Melodious Or Bird Fair, Be Absent Hence!

Thou Art A Soul In Bliss; But I Am Bound Upon A Wheel Of Fire; That Mine Own Tears Do Scald Like Molten Lead.

I Cannot, Nor I Will Not Hold Me Still; My Tongue, Though Not My Heart, Shall Have His Will.

Truth Will Come To Sight; Murder Cannot Be Hid Long.