You Shall More Command With

The Stroke Of Death Is As A Lover's Pinch, Which Hurts And Is Desired.

Sweets Grown Common Lose Their Dear Delight.

He's A Soldier; And For One To Say A Soldier Lies, Is Stabbing.

By A Divine Instinct, Men's Minds Mistrust Ensuing Danger; As, By Proof, We See The Waters Swell Before A Boisterous Storm.

We Cannot Fight For Love, As Men May Do; We Shou'd Be Woo'd, And Were Not Made To Woo