Finish, Good Lady; The Bright Day Is

Thou Know'st 'tis Common; All That Lives Must Die, Passing Through Nature To Eternity.

There Live Not Three Good Men Unhanged In England; And One Of Them Is Fat And Grows Old.

You Must Not Think That We Are Made Of Stuff So Fat And Dull That We Can Let Our Beard Be Shook With Danger And Think It Pastime.

Seek Happy Nights To Happy Days.w

. . From This Moment The Very Firstlings Of My Heart Shall Be The Firstlings Of My Hand. And Even Now, To Crown My Thoughts With Acts, Be It Thought And Done.