The World Is Not Thy Friend, Nor

If You Prick Us Do We Not Bleed? If You Tickle Us Do We Not Laugh? If You Poison Us Do We Not Die? And If You Wrong Us Shall We Not Revenge?

I'll Speak In A Monstrous Little Voice.

But When I Came, Alas, To Wive, With Hey, Ho, The Wind And The Rain, By Swaggering Could I Never Thrive, For The Rain It Raineth Every Day.

Winter's Not Gone Yet, If The Wild Geese Fly That Way.

Rough Winds Do Shake The Darling Buds Of May.