Tomorrow, And Tomorrow, And Tomorrow,creeps In This

Give Sorrow Words; The Grief That Does Not Speak Knits Up The O-er Wrought Heart And Bids It Break.

Enjoy The Honey-heavy Dew Of Slumber.

No Place Indeed Should Murder Sanctuarize; Revenge Should Have No Bounds.

There Are No Tricks In Plain And Simple Faith.

You Dull Ass Will Not Mend His Pace With Beating.