If Fortune Torments Me, Hope Contents Me.

Adieu, Adieu, Adieu! Remember Me.

Look, The World's Comforter, With Weary Gait, His Day's Hot Task Hath Ended In The West: The Owl, Night's Herald, Shrieks-'tis Very Late; The Sheep Are Gone To Fold, Birds To Their Nest; And Coal-black Clouds, That Shadow Heaven's Light, Do Summon Us To Part, And Bid Good Night.

She Will Die If You Love Her Not, And She Will Die Ere She Might Make Her Love Known

Swear Me, Kate, Like A Lady As Thou Art, A Good Mouth-filling Oath.

Good With Out Evil Is Like Light With Out Darkness Which In Turn Is Like Righteousness Whith Out Hope.