Sit By My Side, And Let The

Love's Not Time's Fool, Though Rosy Lips And Cheeks Within His Bending Sickle's Compass Come.

Assume A Virtue If You Have It Not.

Whose Heart The Accustom'd Sight Of Death Makes Hard.

You Must Not Think That We Are Made Of Stuff So Fat And Dull That We Can Let Our Beard Be Shook With Danger And Think It Pastime.

One Pain Is Lessened By Another's Anguish.