How Prodigal the Soul
Confess Yourself to Heaven
Seek for Thy Noble Father in the Dust
Black as His Purpose Did the Night Resemble
There's Daggers in Men's Smiles
My News Shall Be the Fruit to That Great Feast
Forgive Me This My Virtue
In the Dead Vast and Middle of the Night
Foul Deeds Will Rise
With Mirth in Funeral and With Dirge in Marriage
