The Heart Hath Treble Wrong When It

O King, Believe Not This Hard-hearted Man!

When I Have Plucked The Rose, I Cannot Give It Vital Growth Again, It Needs Must Wither. I'll Smell It On The Tree.

As Merry As The Day Is Long.

Who Is Here So Vile That Will Not Love His Country?

Lay Her I' The Earth: And From Her Fair And Unpolluted Flesh May Violets Spring! I Tell Thee, Churlish Priest, A Ministering Angel Shall My Sister Be, When Thou Liest Howling. Hamlet. What, The Fair Ophelia! Queen Gertrude. Sweets To The Sweet: Farewell!