Possess Your Soul With Patience.

So The False Spider, When Her Nets Are Spread, Deep Ambushed In Her Silent Den Does Lie.

He Trudged Along Unknowing What He Sought, And Whistled As He Went, For Want Of Thought.

Fool, Not To Know That Love Endures No Tie, And Jove But Laughs At Lovers' Perjury.

I Maintain, Against The Enemies Of The Stage, That Patterns Of Piety, Decently Represented, May Second The Precepts.

To Die Is Landing On Some Distant Shore.