... And Death Unloads Thee.

All Things Are Ready, If Our Mind Be So.

Well-apparel'd April On The Heel Of Limping Winter Treads.

You Are Strangely Troublesome.

Infirm Of Purpose! Give Me The Daggers: The Sleeping And The Dead Are But As Pictures: ‘tis The Eye Of Childhood That Fears A Painted Devil

Hopeless And Helpless Doth Egeon Wend, But To Procrastinate His Liveless End.