Will You Walk Out Of The Air,

England, Bound In With The Triumphant Sea, Whose Rocky Shore Beats Back The Envious Siege Of Watery Neptune.

Nay, We Must Think Men Are Not Gods, Nor Of Them Look For Such Observancy As Fits The Bridal.

Determine On Some Course More Than A Wild Exposure To Each Chance.

Diseases Desperate Grown By Desperate Appliances Are Relieved, Or Not At All.

Roses Have Thorns, And Silver Fountains Mud; Clouds And Eclipses Stain Both Moon And Sun, And Loathsome Canker Lies In Sweetest Bud. All Men Make Faults.