The Sense Of Death Is Most In

Bid Me Discourse, I Will Enchant Thine Ear

... And Death Unloads Thee.

To Hold, As 't Were, The Mirror Up To Nature.

'twas Merry When You Wagered On Your Angling, When Your Diver Did Hang A Salt Fish On His Hook, Which He With Fervency Drew Up.

The Thorny Point Of Bare Distress Hath Ta'en From Me The Show Of Smooth Civility; Yet Am I Inland Bred And Know Some Nurture.