Do Thou Amend Thy Face,

How My Achievements Mock Me!

Thus Can The Demigod Authority Make Us Pay Down For Our Offense By Weight The Words Of Heaven; On Whom It Will, It Will, On Whom It Will Not, So: Yet Still 'tis Just.

As Good Luck Would Have It.

Merrily, Merrily Shall I Live Now, Under The Blossom That Hangs On The Bough.

So Sweet Was Ne'er So Fatal. I Must Weep. But They Are Creul Tears. This Sorrow's Heavenly; It Strikes Where It Doth Love.