A Sympathy In Choice.

You Had Measured How Long A Fool You Were Upon The Ground.

Sound Trumpets! Let Our Bloody Colours Wave! And Either Victory, Or Else A Grave.

Myself Will Straight Aboard, And To The State This Heavy Act With Heavy Heart Relate.

We Make Trifles Of Terrors, Ensconcing Ourselves Into Seeming Knowledge, When We Should Submit Ourselves To An Unknown Fear.

Foul Words Is But Foul Wind, And Foul Wind Is But Foul Breath, And Foul Breath Is Noisome; Therefore I Will Depart Unkissed.