Our Doubts Are Traitors And Make Us

I Am But Mad North-north-west. When The Wind Is Southerly, I Know A Hawk From A Handsaw.

Though Age From Folly Could Not Give Me Freedom, It Does From Childishness.

When I Have Seen By Time's Fell Hand Defaced The Rich Proud Cost Of Outworn Buried Age; When Sometime Lofty Towers I See Down-razed And Brass Eternal Slave To Mortal Rage; When I Have Seen The Hungry Ocean Gain Advantage On The Kingdom Of The Shore, And The Firm Soil Win Of The Watery Main, Increasing Store With Loss And Loss With Store; When I Have Seen Such Interchange Of State, Or State Itself Confounded To Decay; Ruin Hath Taught Me Thus To Ruminate, That Time Will Come And Take My Love Away. This Thought Is As A Death Which Cannot Choose But Weep To Have That Which It Fears To Lose.

Take Her Away; For She Hath Lived Too Long, To Fill The World With Vicious Qualities.

Whose Heart The Accustom'd Sight Of Death Makes Hard.