The Heavenly-harness'd Team Begins His Golden Progress

Either Our History Shall With Full Mouth Speak Freely Of Our Acts, Or Else Our Grave, Like Turkish Mute, Shall Have A Tongueless Mouth, Not Worshipped With A Waxen Epitaph.

Can It Be Chat Modesty May More Betray Our Sense Than Woman's Lightness?

You Have Dancing Shoes With Nimble Soles. I Have A Soul Of Lead.

Be Merry; You Have Cause, So Have We All, Of Joy; For Our Escape Is Much Beyond Our Loss . . . . Then Wisely Weigh Our Sorrow With Our Comfort.

Every Great Drama Has Its Foreshadow.