Journeys End In Lovers Meeting.

A High Hope For A Low Heaven: God Grant Us Patience!

How My Achievements Mock Me!

I Would With Such Perfection Govern, Sir, T'excel The Golden Age.

Not Proud You Have, But Thankful That You Have. Proud Can I Never Be Of What I Hate, But Thankful Even For Hate That Is Meant Love.

There's Rosemary And Rue. These Keep Seeming And Savor All The Winter Long. Grace And Remembrance Be To You.