Remembrance Of Things Past.

Is This Government Of Britain's Isle, And This The Royalty Of Albion's King?

Glory Is Like A Circle In The Water, Which Never Ceaseth To Enlarge Itself, Till, By Broad Spreading, It Disperse To Naught.

I Bear A Charmed Life.

O, Full Of Scorpions Is My Mind!

For Death Remembered Should Be Like A Mirror, Who Tells Us Life’s But Breath, To Trust It Error.