When Faced With A Sea

Thou Art The Mars Of Malcontents.

Their Savage Eyes Turned To A Modest Gaze By The Sweet Power Of Music.

The Object Of Art Is To Give Life A Shape.

Good Morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's Day, All In The Morn Betime, And I A Maid At Your Window, To Be Your Valentine.

I Would That I Were Low Laid In My Grave. I Am Not Worth This Coil That's Made For Me.