Do Not Speak Like A Death's-head, Do

If All The Year Were Playing Holidays; To Sport Would Be As Tedious As To Work.

O Judgment ! Thou Art Fled To Brutish Beasts, And Men Have Lost Their Reason !

She Is Mine Own, And I As Rich In Having Such A Jewel As Twenty Seas, If All Their Sand Were Pearl, The Water Nectar, And The Rocks Pure Gold.

Make Less Thy Body Hence, And More Thy Grace. Leave Gormandizing.

What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks?