What, Man, Defy The Devil. Consider, He's

No Matter Where; Of Comfort No Man Speak: Let's Talk Of Graves, Of Worms, And Epitaphs; Make Dust Our Paper And With Rainy Eyes Write Sorrow On The Bosom Of The Earth

Why, Headstrong Liberty Is Lashed With Woe. There's Nothing Situate Under Heaven's Eye But Hath His Bound, In Earth, In Sea, In Sky.

Beauty Within Itself Should Not Be Wasted.

The Rest, Is Silence.

Women Are As Roses, Whose Fair Flower, Being Once Displayed, Doth Fall That Very Hour.