And A Man's Life's No More Than

And Gentlemen In England Now-a-bed Shall Think Themselves Accurs'd They Were Not Here, And Hold Their Manhoods Cheap Whiles Any Speaks That Fought With Us Upon Saint Crispin's Day.

Bid Me Discourse, I Will Enchant Thine Ear

Lawn As White As Driven Snow; Cyprus Black As E'er Was Crow; Gloves As Sweet As Damask Roses.

They Were Devils Incarnate.

I Am In Blood Stepp'd In So Far, That, Should I Wade No More, Returning Were As Tedious As Go O'er.