The Low'ring Element Scowls O'er The Darken'd

What Boots It At One Gate To Make Defence, And At Another To Let In The Foe?

From His Lips/not Words Alone Pleased Her.

These Evils I Deserve, And More . . . . Justly, Yet Despair Not Of His Final Pardon, Whose Ear Is Ever Open, And His Eye Gracious To Re-admit The Suppliant.

Arms On Armour Clashing Bray'd Horrible Discord, And The Madding Wheels Of Brazen Chariots Rag'd: Dire Was The Noise Of Conflict.

It Is Chastity, My Brother. She That Has That Is Clad In Complete Steel.