The Hebrew Will Turn Christian; He Grows

So Sweet Was Ne'er So Fatal. I Must Weep. But They Are Creul Tears. This Sorrow's Heavenly; It Strikes Where It Doth Love.

So Our Virtues Lie In The Interpretation Of The Time

Take Physic, Pomp; Expose Thyself To Feel What Wretches Feel, That Thou Mayst Shake The Superflux To Them And Show The Heavens More Just.

Examine Well Your Blood.

Words Without Thoughts Never To Heaven Go.