Yon Grey Lines That Fret The Clouds

So Full Of Artless Jealousy Is Guilt, It Spills Itself In Fearing To Be Spilt.

They Have Been At A Great Feast Of Languages, And Stolen The Scraps.

There Is A Tide In The Affairs Of Men

Come My Spade. There Is No Ancient Gentlemen But Gardeners, Ditchers, And Grave-makers; They Hold Up Adam's Profession.

Woe, Destruction, Ruin, And Decay; The Worst Is Death And Death Will Have His Day.