And Will He Not Come

Things Won Are Done, Joy's Soul Lies In The Doing.

A Knot You Are Of Damned Bloodsuckers.

Time Doth Transfix The Flourish Set On Youth And Delves The Parallels In Beauty's Brow.

I Know Them, Yea, And What They Weigh, Even To The Utmost Scruple; Scambling, Out-facing, Fashion-mong'ring Boys, That Lie, And Cog, And Flout, Deprave, And Slander, Go Antickly, And Show Outward Hideousness, And Speak Off Half A Dozen Dangerous Words, How They Might Hurt Their Enemies, If They Durst; And This Is All.

You Know That Love Will Creep In Service Where It Cannot Go.