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In Thy Youth Wast As True A Lover, As Ever Sighed Upon A Midnight Pillow

Thou Weedy Elf-skinned Canker-blossom!

Better Conquest Never Canst Thou Make Than Arm Thy Constant And Thy Nobler Parts Against Giddy, Loose Suggestions.

My Father Names Me Autolycus, Who Being, As I Am, Littered Under Mercury, Was Likewise A Snapper-up Of Unconsidered Trifles.

Men In Rage Strike Those That Wish Them Best.