I'll Note You In My Book Of

Thus Play I In One Person Many People, And None Contented: Sometimes Am I King; Then Treasons Make Me Wish Myself A Beggar, And So I Am: Then Crushing Penury Persuades Me I Was Better When A King; Then Am I King'd Again: And By And By Think That I Am Unking'd By Bolingbroke, And Straight Am Nothing: But Whate'er I Be, Nor I Nor Any Man That But Man Is With Nothing Shall Be Pleased, Till He Be Eased With Being Nothing.

By My Troth, I Care Not; A Man Can Die But Once; We Owe God A Death And Let It Go Which Way It Will He That Dies This Year Is Quit For The Next

Then Will I Raise Aloft The Milk-white Rose. For Whose Sweet Smell The Air Shall Be Perfumed.

Say As You Think And Speak It From Your Souls.

It Is Not Night When I Do See Your Face.