I Am The Prince Of Wales; And

Do Not Swear By The Moon, For She Changes Constantly. Then Your Love Would Also Change.

Why, Universal Plodding Poisons Up The Nimble Spirits In The Arteries, As Motion And Long-during Action Tires The Sinewy Vigor Of The Traveller.

True, I Talk Of Dreams, Which Are The Children Of An Idle Brain, Begot Of Nothing But Vain Fantasy.

For Conspiracy, I Know Not How It Tastes, Though It Be Dished For Me To Try How.

I'll Fight, Till From My Bones My Flesh Be Hacked.