It Never Was Our Guise

Sleep, Delicious And Profound, The Very Counterfeit Of Death

Even His Griefs Are A Joy Long After To One That Remembers All That He Wrought And Endured.

Even The Bravest Cannot Fight Beyond His Power

It Is A Wise Child That Knows His Own Father. [lat., Nondum Enim Quisquam Suum Parentem Ipse Cognosvit.]

The Wine Urges Me On, The Bewitching Wine, Which Sets Even A Wise Man To Singing And To Laughing Gently And Rouses Him Up To Dance And Brings Forth Words Which Were Better Unspoken.