Let The End Try The Man.

Woe To That Land That's Governed By A Child.

Sleep Dwell Upon Thine Eyes, Peace In Thy Breast! Would I Were Sleep And Peace, So Sweet To Rest.

O, I Have Suffered With Those That I Saw Suffer!

Well-apparel'd April On The Heel Of Limping Winter Treads.

Base Men Being In Love Have Then A Nobility In Their Natures More Than Is Native To Them.