Our Swords Shall Play The Orators For

Nature That Framed Us Of Four Elements, Warring Within Our Breasts For Regiment, Doth Teach Us All To Have Aspiring Minds: Our Souls, Whose Faculties Can Comprehend The Wondrous Architecture Of The World, And Measure Every Wandering Planet's Course, Still Climbing After Knowledge Infinite, And Always Moving As The Restless Spheres, Wills Us To Wear Ourselves, And Never Rest, Until We Reach The Ripest Fruit Of All, That Perfect Bliss And Sole Felicity, The Sweet Fruition Of An Earthly Crown.

Infinite Riches In A Little Room.

That Perfect Bliss And Sole Felicity, The Sweet Fruition Of An Earthly Crown.

Now I Will Show Myselfto Have More Of The Serpent Than The Dove;that Is--more Knave Than Fool.

Was This The Face That Launched A Thousand Ships, And Burnt The Topless Towers Of Ileum?