He Loves But Little Who

Here We Find The Moat Of Thieves. And Just As A Lizard, With A Quick, Slick Slither, Flicks Across The Highway From Hedge To Hedge, Fleeter Than A Flash, In The Battering Dog-day Weather, A Fiery Little Monster, Livid, In A Rage, Black As Any Peppercorn, Came And Made A Dart At The Guts Of The Others, And Leaping To Engage One Of The Pair, It Pierced Him At The Part Through Which We First Draw Food; Then Loosed Its Grip And Fell Before Him, Outstretched And Apart.

Many Have Justice In Their Hearts, But Slowly It Is Let Fly, For It Comes Not Without Council To The Bow.

In The Middle Of The Journey Of Our Life I Came To Myself Within A Dark Wood Where The Straight Way Was Lost.

He Who Shall Never Be Divided From Me Kissed My Mouth All Trembling.

The Human Race Is In The Best Condition When It Has The Greatest Degree Of Liberty.