Death, A Necessary End, Will Come When

Nimble Thought Can Jump Both Sea And Land.

For Sweetest Things Turn Sourest By Their Deeds; Lillies That Fester Smell Far Worse Than Weeds.

The Most Peerless Piece Of Earth, I Think, That E' Er The Sun Shone Bright On.

I Know A Bank Where The Wild Thyme Blows, Where Oxlips And The Nodding Violet Grows, Quite Over-canopied With Luscious Woodbine, With Sweet Musk-roses And With Eglantine.

Frailty, Thy Name Is Woman!