A Man I Am Cross'd With Adversity.

O Thou Invisible Spirit Of Wine, If Thou Hast No Name To Be Known By, Let Us Call Thee Devil.

No .... Holy Father, Throw Away That Thought. Believe Not That The Dribbling Dart Of Love Can Pierce A Complete Bosom.

What Is Honour? A Word. What Is In That Word Honour? What Is That Honour? Air. A Trim Reckoning! Who Hath It? He That Died O' Wednesday. Doth He Feel It? No. Doth He Hear It? No.

Hung Be The Heavens With Black! Yield, Day, To Night!

Remember Thee! Ay, Thou Poor Ghost, While Memory Holds A Seat In This Distracted Globe.