He Is Winding The Watch Of His

Yet Do I Fear Thy Nature; It Is Too Full O' The Milk Of Human Kindness To Catch The Nearest Way: Thou Wouldst Be Great; Art Not Without Ambition, But Without The Illness Should Attend It: What Thou Wouldst Highly, That Wouldst Thou Holily; Wouldst Not Play False, And Yet Wouldst Wrongly Win.

Oh, That Way Madness Lies; Let Me Shun That.

What Soilders Whey-face? The English For So Please You. Take Thy Face Hence.

Alas, How Love Can Trifle With Itself!

Sit By My Side, And Let The World Slip: We Shall Ne'er Be Younger.