Even every ray of hope destroyed and not a wish to gild the gloom.
In durance vile 1here must I wake and weep, And all my frowsy couch in sorrow steep.
Some wee short hour ayont the twal.
Ye Hypocrites, are these your pranks To murder men and gie God thanks Desist for shame, proceed no further God won't accept your thanks for murder.
Prudent, cautious self-control is wisdom's root.
Love's first snow-drop, virgin kiss.