Strange Thoughts Beget Strange Deeds.

Men Of England, Wherefore Plough For The Lords Who Lay You Low?

The Pleasure That Is In Sorrow Is Sweeter Than The Pleasure Of Pleasure Itself.

January Gray Is Here, Like A Sexton By Her Grave; February Bears The Bier, March With Grief Doth Howl And Rave, And April Weeps -- But, O Ye Hours! Follow With May's Fairest Flowers.

A Lovely Lady, Garmented In Light From Her Own Beauty.

The Crime Of Inquiry Is One Which Religion Never Has Forgiven.