We Will All Laugh At Gilded Butterflies.

Angels And Ministers Of Grace Defend Us.

Instinct Is A Great Matter. I Was Now A Coward On Instinct.

Now Would I Give A Thousand Furlongs Of Sea For An Acre Of Barren Ground.

I Humbly Do Beseech Of Your Pardon, For Too Much Loving You

Who Has A Book Of All That Monarchs Do, He's More Secure To Keep It Shut Than Shown; For Vice Repeated Is Like The Wand'ring Wind, Blows Dust In Others' Eye, To Spread Itself; And Yet The End Of All Is Bought Thus Dear, The Breath Is Gone, And The Sore Eyes See Clear To Stop The Air Would Hurt Them.