Your Hearts Are Mighty, Your Skins Are

Nothing Comes Amiss, So Money Comes Withal.

Pray, Love, Remember: And There Is Pansies, That's For Thoughts.

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

We Bring Forth Weeds When Our Quick Minds Lie Still.

O Sleep! O Gentle Sleep! Nature's Soft Nurse, How Have I Frighted Thee, That Thou No More Wilt Weigh My Eyelids Down And Steep My Senses In Forgetfulness? Why Rather, Sleep, Liest Thou In Smoky Cribs, Upon Uneasy Pallets Stretching Thee, And Hush'd With Buzzing Night-flies To Thy Slumber, Than In The Perfum'd Chambers Of The Great, Under The Canopies Of Costly State, And Lull'd With Sound Of Sweetest Melody?