Lilies That Fester Smell Far Worse Than

Good Hamlet, Cast Thy Nighted Colour Off ... Do Not For Ever With Thy Vailed Lids Seek For Thy Noble Father In The Dust.

There Is A Tide In The Affairs Of Men

Angels And Ministers Of Grace Defend Us.

So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy That It Alone Is High Fantastical.

Out, Out, Brief Candle! Life's But A Walking Shadow.