I Am Giddy, Expectation Whirls Me Round.

Things In Motion Sooner Catch The Eye Than What Not Stirs.

A Horse, A Horse, My Kingdom For A Horse!

No, No, No, No! Come, Let's Away To Prison: We Two Alone Will Sing Like Birds I' The Cage: When Thou Dost Ask Me Blessing, I'll Kneel Down, And Ask Of Thee Forgiveness: So We'll Live, And Pray, And Sing, And Tell Old Tales, And Laugh At Gilded Butterflies, And Hear Poor Rogues Talk Of Court News; And We'll Talk With Them Too, Who Loses And Who Wins; Who's In, Who's Out; And Take Upon's The Mystery Of Things, As If We Were God's Spies: And We'll Wear Out, In A Wall'd Prison, Packs And Sects Of Great Ones, That Ebb And Flow By The Moon.

I Am Not Of That Feather, To Shake Off My Friend When He Must Need Me

Thou Art Thy Mother's Glass, And She In Thee Calls Back The Lovely April Of Her Prime...