And All My Mother Came Into Mine

I Hate The Murderer, Love Him Murdered.

Take Her Away; For She Hath Lived Too Long, To Fill The World With Vicious Qualities.

I'll Break My Staff, Bury It Certain Fathoms In The Earth, And Deeper Than Did Ever Plummet Sound, I'll Drown My Book!

Abate The Edge Of Traitors, Gracious Lord, That Would Reduce These Bloody Days Again And Make Poor England Weep In Streams Of Blood! Let Them Not Live To Taste This Land's Increase That Would With Treason Wound This Fair Land's Peace! Now Civil Wounds Are Stopped, Peace Lives Again: That She May Long Live Here, God Say Amen!

Commit The Oldest Sins The Newest Kind Of Ways.