Highly Fed And Lowly Taught.

I Was Not Born Under A Rhyming Planet, Nor I Cannot Woo To In Festival Terms.

It Is Great To Do That Thing That Ends All Other Deeds, Which Shackles Accidents And Bolts Up Change.

Because It Is A Customary Cross, As Die To Love As Thoughts, And Dreams, And Sighs, Wishes, And Tears, Poor Fancy's Followers.

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

Out, Out, Brief Candle! Life's But A Walking Shadow.