Men's Evil Manners Live In Brass; Their

Confess Yourself To Heaven, Repent What's Past, Avoid What Is To Come, And Do Not Spread The Compost On The Weeds To Make Them Ranker.

Then With The Losers Let It Sympathize, For Nothing Can Seem Foul To Those That Win.

O! Let Me Not Be Mad, Not Mad, Sweet Heaven; Keep Me In Temper; I Would Not Be Mad!

I 'gin To Be Aweary Of The Sun, And Wish Th' Estate O' Th' World Were Now Undone.

You Have Her Father's Love, Demetrius; Let Me Have Hermia's: Do You Marry Him!