My Stars Shine Darkly Over Me

Within The Hollow Crown That Rounds The Mortal Temples Of A King Keeps Death His Court.

All Impediments In Fancy's Course Are Motives Of More Fancy.

Beauty Too Rich For Use, For Earth Too Dear.

Conversation Should Be Pleasant Without Scurrility, Witty Without Affectation, Free Without Indecency, Learned Without Conceitedness, Novel Without Falsehood.

After Life's Fitful Fever He Sleeps Well. Treason Has Done His Worst. Nor Steel Nor Poison, Malice Domestic, Foreign Levy, Nothing Can Touch Him Further.