An Angel; Or, If Not,

A Countenance More In Sorrow Than In Anger.

The Rose Looks Fair, But Fairer We It Deem For That Sweet Odour Which Doth In It Live.

Mine Eyes Are Full Of Tears, My Heart Of Grief.

When You Fear A Foe, Fear Crushes Your Strength; And This Weakness Gives Strength To Your Opponents.

Oh, God! I Have An Ill-divining Soul!