Through thick or thin,
I don’t want to be ruin.
Friendship we had,
I’ll better be glad.
We see each other flaws,
And break our jaws.
Years has passed by in our life,
Don’t ever use that knife.
Something that we decide ourselves,
Don’t hide in the caves.
Leave the past behind,
I’m your friend at hand.
What hurts you,
Shall be blessed thou.
Let’s face the sunshine,
And let it shine.
I’ll be here no matter what,
Don’t be such a brat.
I love you my dearest friend,
Until the end.

-Jane

Done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzetti.

Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations
Muse a vain thing, the Kings of th’earth upstand
With power, and Princes in their Congregations
Lay deep their plots together through each Land,
Against the Lord and his Messiah dear.
Let us break off; say they, by strength of hand
Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear,
Their twisted cords: he who in Heaven doth dwell
Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe
Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell
And fierce ire trouble them; but I saith hee
Anointed have my King (though ye rebell)
On Sion my holi’ hill.  A firm decree
I will declare; the Lord to me hath say’d
Thou art my Son I have begotten thee
This day, ask of me, and the grant is made;
As thy possession I on thee bestow
Th’Heathen, and as thy conquest to be sway’d
Earths utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full low
With Iron Sceptir bruis’d, and them disperse
Like to a potters vessel shiver’d so.
And now be wise at length ye Kings averse
Be taught ye Judges of the earth; with fear
Jehovah serve and let your joy converse
With trembling;  Kiss the Son least he appear
In anger and ye perish in the way
If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere.
Happy all those who have in him their stay.

What do you deserve? Let's match
it up with what you had the nerve
to break. Concessions? Some poor sap's
fair shake?

No carefree drop-by-drop
of days taps your forgiveness-Morse.
They fall upon discourse, always
needing to know, exploiting loiter-
bones to cleave "now" from the crack
(two shades of never coming back).

None freer than the light you saw
when first you shook—still you won't dance
or cost, consume or hitch-hike. Backseat
to some error-formed device:
white lighting rolls the dice. Can we
upstand the boldness of his claim?
No doubt he felt ashamed—
that phantom, teasing wrinkles up
what we worked for.
(Why won't he visit more?)

Write down the weighted score:
your mild applause, their terror cries, and split
the difference with the outer set.
Catastrophe's the safest bet.