There Is No Creature Loves Me; And

Ah, What A Sign It Is Of Evil Life, Where Death's Approach Is Seen So Terrible!

Therefore I Tell My Sorrows To The Stones; Who, Though They Cannot Answer My Distress, Yet In Some Sort They Are Better Than The Tribunes, For That They Will Not Intercept My Tale: When I Do Weep, They Humbly At My Feet Receive My Tears And Seem To Weep With Me; And, Were They But Attired In Grave Weeds, Rome Could Afford No Tribune Like To These.

We Are The Lords Of All Eternity

Poise The Cause In Justice's Equal Scales, Whose Beam Stands Sure, Whose Rightful Cause Prevails.

I Have Full Cause Of Weeping, But This Heart Shall Break Into A Hundred Thousand Flaws Or Ere I'll Weep.