The Rest, Is Silence.

Most Subject Is The Fattest Soil To Weeds.

A Girl Takes Too Much Time To Love And A Few Seconds To Hate. But A Boy Takes A Few Seconds To Love And Too Much Time To Hate.

Come Away, Come Away, Death, And In Sad Cypress Let Me Be Laid; Fly Away, Fly Away, Breath, I Am Slain By A Fair Cruel Maid. My Shroud Of White Stuck All With Yew, O Prepare It! My Part Of Death No One So True Did Share It. Not A Flower, Not A Flower Sweet, On My Black Coffin Let There Be Strewn: Not A Friend, Not A Friend Greet My Poor Corpse, Where My Bones Shall Be Thrown. A Thousand Thousand Sighs To Save, Lay Me O Where Sad True Lover Never Find My Grave, To Weep There!

Come Not Within The Measure Of My Wrath.

I Am Too Old To Fawn Upon A Nurse, Too Far In Years To Be A Pupil Now.