Our Lives Are But Our Marches To

The Greatest Attribute Of Heaven Is Mercy.

Grace Comes Often Clad In The Dusky Robe Of Desolation.

As High As Heaven, As Deep As Hell.

Let No Man Fear To Die, We Love To Sleep All, And Death Is But The Sounder Sleep.

My Virginity, That From My Childhood Kept Me Company, Is Heavier Than I Can Endure To Bear. Forgive Me, Cupid, For Thou Art God, And I A Wretched Creature: I Have Sinn'd; But Be Thou Merciful, And Grant That Yet I May Enjoy What Thou Wilt Have Me Love!