Sin From Thy Lips? O Trespass Sweetly

Women Being The Weaker Vessels, Are Ever Thrust To The Walls.

Open Thy Gate Of Mercy, Gracious God, My Soul Flies Through These Wounds To Seek Out Thee.

Men Prize The Thing Ungained More Than It Is.

His Words Are Bonds, His Oaths Are Oracles; His Love Sincere, His Thoughts Immaculate; His Tears Pure Messengers Sent From His Heart; His Heart As Far From Fraud, As Heaven From Earth

The Cunning Livery Of Hell.