Your Cause Of Sorrow Must Not Be

Take Pains. Be Perfect.

In Nature There's No Blemish But The Mind. None Can Be Called Deformed But The Unkind.

The Fool Multitude, That Choose By Show, Not Learning More Than The Fond Eye Doth Teach.

O, Here Will I Set Up My Everlasting Rest, And Shake The Yoke Of Inauspicious Stars From This World-wearied Flesh. Eyes, Look Your Last! Arms, Take Your Last Embrace! And, Lips, O You The Doors Of Breath, Seal With A Righteous Kiss A Dateless Bargain To Engrossing Death!

Justice Always Whirls In Equal Measure.