I'll Teach You Differences.

Tis Not A Year Or Two Shows Us A Man: They Are All But Stomachs, And We All But Food; They Eat Us Hungerly, And When They Are Full They Belch Us.

Farewell! A Long Farewell To All My Greatness!

Come What Sorrow Can, It Cannot Countervail The Exchange Of Joy, That One Short Minute Gives Me In Her Sight

You See Me Here, You Gods, A Poor Old Man, As Full Of Grief As Age; Wretched In Both.

I Have Seen Roses Damask'd, Red And White, But No Such Roses See I In Her Cheeks.