What's Done Can't Be Undone.

Ah, What A Sign It Is Of Evil Life, Where Death's Approach Is Seen So Terrible!

Now See That Noble And Most Sovereign Reason, Like Sweet Bells Jangled, Out Of Tune And Harsh.

To Offend And Judge Are Distinct Offices, And Of Opposed Natures.

Did He So Often Lodge In Open Field, In Winter's Cold And Summer's Parching Heat, To Conquer France, His True Inheritance?

We Have Some Salt Of Our Youth In Us.