When A Wise Man Gives Thee Better

Blessings Of Your Heart, You Brew Good Ale.

To Die: - To Sleep: No More; And, By A Sleep To Say We End The Heart-ache And The Thousand Natural Shocks That Flesh Is Heir To, 'tis A Consummation Devoutly To Be Wished.

Thou Know'st 'tis Common; All That Lives Must Die, Passing Through Nature To Eternity.

I Feel Within Me A Peace Above All Earthly Dignities, A Still And Quiet Conscience.

A Good Old Man, Sir. He Will Be Talking. As They Say, When The Age Is In, The Wit Is Out.