They Told Me I Was Everything. 'tis

They Whose Guilt Within Their Bosom Lies, Imagine Every Eye Beholds Their Blame.

Look, What Envious Streaks Do Lace The Severing Clouds In Yonder East! Night's Candles Are Burnt Out, And Jocund Day Stands Tip-toe On The Misty Mountain-tops.

O, How Shall Summer's Honey Breath Hold Out Against The Wreckful Siege Of Battering Days, When Rocks Impregnable Are Not So Stout, Nor Gates Of Steel So Strong, But Time Decays?

I Have Seen Roses Damask'd, Red And White, But No Such Roses See I In Her Cheeks.

All The World's A Stage.