If Chance Will Have Me King, Why,

For This, Be Sure, Tonight Thou Shalt Have Cramps, Side-stitches That Shall Pen Thy Breath Up. Urchins Shall Forth At Vast Of Night That They May Work All Exercise On Thee. Thou Shalt Be Pinched As Thick As Honeycomb, Each Pinch More Stinging Than Bees That Made 'em.

How Much An Ill Word May Empoison Liking!

Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day?

Ideas Are The Very Coinage Of Your Brain.

What Must Be Shall Be.