My Love To Thee Is Sound, Sans

So May I, Blind Fortune Leading Me, Miss That Which One Unworthier May Attain, And Die With Grieving.

Shall We Upon The Footing Of Our Land Send Fair-play Orders, And Make Compromise, Insinuation, Parley, And Base Truce, To Arms Invasive?

There Is Nothing But Roguery To Be Found In Villainous Men.

Extreme Fear Can Neither Fight Nor Fly.

Princes Have But Their Titles For Their Glories, An Outward Honor For An Inward Toil; And, For Unfelt Imaginations, They Often Feel A World Of Restless Cares.