Though Death Be Poor, It Ends A

This Is The Short And The Long Of It.

That Is My Home Of Love: If I Have Ranged, Like Him That Travels I Return Again, Just To The Time, Not With The Time Exchanged.

Be Just, And Fear Not.

Rumour: "upon My Tongues Continual Slanders Ride, The Which In Every Language I Pronounce, Stuffing The Ears Of Men With False Reports.

Though Yet Of Hamlet Our Dear Brother's Death The Memory Be Green.