Bear With My Weakness. My Old Brain

At This Hour Lie At My Mercy All Mine Enemies.

Do All Men Kill The Things They Do Not Love ............ The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strain'd It Droppeth As The Gentle Rain From Heaven Upon The Place Beneath: It Is Twice Blest It Blesseth Him That Gives And Him That Takes

In Religion, What Damned Error But Some Sober Brow Will Bless It, And Approve It With A Text, Hiding The Grossness With Fair Ornament?

So Quick Bright Things Come To Confusion.​​​​​​

I Never Yet Did Hear, That The Bruis'd Heart Was Pierced Through The Ear