Nonsense, Do You Imagine He Has Thought

Hush, My Darling! Hush, Hush, Catherine! I'll Stay. If He Shot Me So, I'd Expire With A Blessing On My Lips.

The Tyrant Grinds Down His Slaves And They Don't Turn Against Him, They Crush Those Beneath Them.

Love Is Like The Wild Rose-briar; Friendship Like The Holly-tree. The Holly Is Dark When The Rose-briar Blooms, But Which Will Bloom Most Constantly?

And From The Midst Of Cheerless Gloom I Passed To Bright Unclouded Day.

It Is Strange People Should Be So Greedy, When They Are Alone In The World.