My Desolation Does Begin To Make A

Greatness Knows Itself.

The Error Of Our Eye Directs Our Mind. What Error Leads Must Err.

Out, Out, Brief Candle! Life's But A Walking Shadow.

Ambition Should Be Made Of Sterner Stuff.

And Then He Drew A Dial From His Poke, And Looking With Lack-lustre Eye, Says Very Wisely, 'it Is Ten O'clock: Thus We May See', Quoth He, 'how The World Wags: 'tis But An Hour Ago Since It Was Nine, And After One Hour More 'twill Be Eleven; And So From Hour To Hour We Ripe And Ripe, And Then From Hour To Hour We Rot And Rot.