Good Reasons Must Of Force

Gnawing With My Teeth My Bonds In Sunder, I Gain'd My Freedom.

So We'll Live, And Pray, And Sing, And Tell Old Tales, And Laugh At Gilded Butterflies.

Love For Thy Love , And Hand For Hand I Give.

Gloucester: Yet So Much Is My Poverty Of Spirit, So Mighty And So Many My Defects, As I Had Rather Hide Me From My Greatness, Being A Bark To Brook No Mighty Sea, Than In My Greatness Covet To Be Hid, And In The Vapour Of My Glory Smother'd. But God Be Thanked. . . .

Good Old Grandsire ... We Shall Be Joyful Of Thy Company.