Where I Could Not Be Honest, I

Good Words Are Better Than Bad Strokes.

By The Apostle Paul, Shadows Tonight Have Struck More Terror To The Soul Of Richard Than Can The Substance Of Ten Thousand Soldiers.

I Do Not Set My Life At A Pin's Fee, And For My Soul, What Can It Do To That, Being A Thing Immortal As Itself?

He Was Met Even Now As Mad As The Vex'd Sea; Singing Aloud; Crown'd With Rank Fumiter And Furrow-weeds, With Bur-docks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, And All The Idle Weeds That Grow In Our Sustaining Corn.

But Shall We Wear These Glories For A Day? Or Shall They Last, And We Rejoice In Them?