The Moor Has Done His Work, The

Thus Arm In Arm With Thee I Dare Defy My Century Into The Lists.

Whatever Lives, Lives To Die In Sorrow. We Engage Our Hearts, And Grasp After The Things Of This World, Only To Undergo The Pang Of Losing Them.

A Pity About The People! They Are Brave Enough Comrades, But They Have Heads Like A Soapboiler's.

A Gloomy Guest Fits Not A Wedding Feast.

We, We Live! Ours Are The Hours, And The Living Have Their Claims.