If I Lose At Play, I Blaspheme;

Kind Pity Chokes My Spleen.

The Day Breaks Not, It Is My Heart.

To Be No Part Of Any Body, Is To Be Nothing.

Without Outward Declarations, Who Can Conclude An Inward Love?

True And False Fears Let Us Refrain, Let Us Love Nobly, And Live, And Add Again Years And Years Unto Years, Till We Attain To Write Threescore ; This Is The Second Of Our Reign.