I Cannot Tell What The Dickens His

How Every Fool Can Play Upon The Word!

The Moon Shines Bright. In Such A Night As This. When The Sweet Wind Did Gently Kiss The Trees And They Did Make No Noise, In Such A Night.

O, Then I See Queen Mab Hath Been With You. . . . She Is The Fairies’ Midwife, And She Comes In Shape No Bigger Than An Agate Stone On The Forefinger Of An Alderman, Drawn With A Team Of Little Atomi Athwart Men’s Noses As They Lie Asleep.

The Sudden Hand Of Death Close Up Mine Eye!

And My Poor Fool Is Hanged! No, No, No Life! Why Should A Dog, A Horse, A Rat, Have Life, And Thou No Breath At All? Thou'lt Come No More, Never, Never, Never, Never, Never! Pray You, Undo This Button.