I Will Kill Thee A Hundred And

I'll Make My Heaven In A Lady's Lap

So Shalt Thou Feed On Death, That Feeds On Men.

Who Are The Violets Now That Strew The Lap Of The New-come Spring?

Love Goes Toward Love As Schoolboys From Their Books, But Love From Love, Toward School With Heavy Looks.

When Death Doth Close His Tender Dying Eyes.