Love Bears It Out Even To The

Some Say That Ever 'gainst The Season Comes Wherein Our Saviour's Birth Is Celebrated, The Bird Of Dawning Singeth All Night Long: And Then, They Say, No Spirit Can Walk Abroad; The Nights Are Wholesome; Then No Planets Strike, No Fairy Takes, Nor Wi

Every Subject's Duty Is The King's; But Every Subject's Soul Is His Own. Therefore, Should Every Soldier In The Wars Do As Every Sick Man In His Bed, Wash Every Mote Out Of His Conscience; And Dying So, Death Is To Him Advantage; Or Not Dying, The Time Was Blessedly Lost Wherein Such Preparation Was Gained; And In Him That Escapes, It Were No Sin To Think That, Making God So Free An Offer, He Let Him Outlive The Day To See His Greatness And To Teach Others How They Should Prepare.

All Dark And Comfortless.

Under The Colour Of Commending Him I Have Access My Own Love To Prefer; But Silvia Is Too Fair, Too True, Too Holy, To Be Corrupted With My Worthless Gifts.

I Have Almost Forgotten The Taste Of Fears: The Time Has Been, My Senses Would Have Cool’d To Hear A Night-shriek; And My Fell Of Hair Would At A Dismal Treatise Rouse And Stir As Life Were In’t: I Have Supt Full With Horrors; Direness, Familiar To My Slaughterous Thoughts, Cannot Once Start Me.