From Women's Eyes This Doctrine I Derive:

Though Yet Of Hamlet Our Dear Brother's Death The Memory Be Green.

Nothing Routs Us But The Villainy Of Our Fears.

Out Of This Nettle - Danger - We Pluck This Flower - Safety.

Fight To The Last Gasp.

Say She Rail; Why, I'll Tell Her Plain She Sings As Sweetly As A Nightingale. Say That She Frown; I'll Say She Looks As Clear As Morning Roses Newly Wash'd With Dew. Say She Be Mute And Will Not Speak A Word; Then I'll Commend Her Volubility, And Say She Uttereth Piercing Eloquence.