Ill Met By Moonlight, Proud Titania

Take Her Away; For She Hath Lived Too Long, To Fill The World With Vicious Qualities.

O, Swear Not By The Moon, The Fickle Moon, The Inconstant Moon, That Monthly Changes In Her Circle Orb, Lest That Thy Love Prove Likewise Variable

Death, A Necessary End, Will Come When It Will Come

But When I Came, Alas, To Wive, With Hey, Ho, The Wind And The Rain, By Swaggering Could I Never Thrive, For The Rain It Raineth Every Day.

The Evil That Men Do Lives After Them; The Good Is Oft Interred With Their Bones.