O All You Host Of Heaven! O

And So, From Hour To Hour, We Ripe And Ripe. And Then, From Hour To Hour, We Rot And Rot; And Thereby Hangs A Tale.

O! She Doth Teach The Torches To Burn Bright It Seems She Hangs Upon The Cheek Of Night Like A Rich Jewel In An Ethiop's Ear; Beauty Too Rich For Use, For Earth Too Dear. - Romeo -

Take It In What Sense Thou Wilt.

Till Our King Henry Had Shook Hands With Death.

My Stronger Guilt Defeats My Strong Intent.