I Own The Soft Impeachment.

I Ne'er Could Any Lustre See In Eyes That Would Not Look On Me; I Ne'er Saw Nectar On A Lip But Where My Own Did Hope To Sip.

Our Memories Are Independent Of Our Wills.

I'll Make My Old Clothes Know Who's Master. I Shall Straightaway Cashier The Hunting-frock, And Render My Leather Breeches Incapable. My Hair Has Been In Training Some Time.

Illiterate Him, I Say, Quite From Your Memory.

I Open With A Clock Striking, To Beget An Awful Attention In The Audience - It Also Marks The Time, Which Is Four O Clock In The Morning, And Saves A Description Of The Rising Sun, And A Great Deal About Gilding The Eastern Hemisphere.