Ambition's Debt Is Paid.

Fair Youth, I Would I Could Make Thee Believe I Love.

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

This Music Crept By Me Upon The Waters, Allaying Both Their Fury And My Passion With Its Sweet Air: Thence I Have Follow’d It.

We Waste Our Lights In Vain, Like Lamps By Day.

And Do As Adversaries Do In Law, Strive Mightily, But Eat And Drink As Friends.