Dream On, Dream On, Of Bloody Deeds

What A Deformed Thief This Fashion Is.

Seek Happy Nights To Happy Days.w

Presume Not That I Am The Thing I Was.

Some Report A Sea-maid Spawn'd Him; Some That He Was Begot Between Two Stock-fishes. But It Is Certain That When He Makes Water His Urine Is Congealed Ice.

Give Sorrow Words; The Grief That Does Not Speak Knits Up The O-er Wrought Heart And Bids It Break.