So Curses All Eve's Daughters Of What

My Soul Is In The Sky.

In Winter's Tedious Nights Sit By The Fire With Good Old Folks, And Let Them Tell Thee Tales Of Woeful Ages, Long Ago Betid

Suffer Love; A Good Epithet! I Do Suffer Love, Indeed, For I Love Thee Against My Will.

My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still.

Experience Teacheth That Resolution Is A Sole Help In Need.