I Can Express No Kinder Sign Of

For Naught So Vile That On The Earth Doth Live But To The Earth Some Special Good Doth Give.

Music Can Minister To Minds Diseased, Pluck From The Memory A Rooted Sorrow, Raze Out The Written Troubles Of The Brain, And With Its Sweet Oblivious Antidote, Cleanse The Full Bosom Of All Perilous Stuff That Weighs Upon The Heart.

The Daintiest Last, To Make The End Most Sweet.

All His Successors Gone Before Him Have Done 't; And All His Ancestors That Come After Him May.

There Is A History In All Men's Lives, Figuring The Nature Of The Times Deceased, The Which Observed, A Man May Prophesy, With A Near Aim, Of The Main Chance Of Things As Yet Not Come To Life, Which In Their Seeds And Weak Beginnings Lie Intreasured.