Beggar That I Am, I Am Even

Smooth Runs The Water Where The Brook Is Deep.

Nature Hath Framed Strange Fellows In Her Time.

Dreams, Indeed, Are Ambition; For The Very Substance Of The Ambitious Is Merely The Shadow Of A Dream. And I Hold Ambition Of So Airy And Light A Quality That It Is But A Shadow's Shadow.

O, Let My Books Be Then The Eloquence And Dumb Presagers Of My Speaking Breast, Who Plead For Love, And Look For Recompense, More Than That Tongue That More Hath More Expressed.

Love Thrives Not In The Heart That Shadows Dreadeth