If It Were Done When 'tis Done,

Virtue's Office Never Breaks Men's Troth.

We Make Guilty Of Our Disasters The Sun, The Moon, And The Stars; As If We Were Villians By Compulsion.

A Turn Or Two I'll Walk To Still My Beating Mind.

So Many Horrid Ghosts.

Lady, You Are The Cruel'st She Alive If You Will Lead These Graces To The Grave And Leave The World No Copy.