One May Smile, And Smile, And Be

Many That Are Not Mad Have, Sure, More Lack Of Reason.

Well, If Fortune Be A Woman, She's A Good Wench For This Gear.

I Will Not Trust You, I, Nor Longer Stay In Your Curst Company. Your Hands Than Mine Are Quicker For A Fray, My Legs Are Longer Though, To Run Away.

The Words Of Mercury Are Harsh After The Songs Of Apollo.

My Way Of Life Is Fall'n Into The Sear And Yellow Leaf.