Let The End Try The Man.

Gentle And Low, An Excellent Thing In Woman.

Beggar That I Am, I Am Even Poor In Thanks

Treason And Murder Ever Kept Together, As Two Yoke-devils Sworn To Either's Purpose, Working So Grossly In A Natural Cause That Admiration Did Not Whoop At Them; But Thou, 'gainst All Proportion, Didst Bring In Wonder To Wait On Treason And On Murder; And Whatsoever Cunning Fiend It Was That Wrought Upon Thee So Preposterously Hath Got The Voice In Hell For Excellence.

Love Like A Shadow Flies When Substance Love Pursues Pursuing That That Flies, And Flying What Pursues.

For Here, I Hope, Begins Our Lasting Joy.