Tell Me Where Is Fancy

These Blessed Candles Of The Night.

We All Are Men, In Our Own Natures Frail, And Capable Of Our Flesh; Few Are Angels.

Out Of This Nettle - Danger - We Pluck This Flower - Safety.

The Best Quarrels, In The Heat, Are Cursed By Those That Feel Their Sharpness.

O, While You Live, Tell Truth, And Shame The Devil!