I Keep Saying, Shakespeare, Shakespeare, You Are

The Heart Less Bounding At Emotion New, The Hope, Once Crushed, Less Quick To Spring Again.

For This Is The True Strength Of Guilty Kings, When They Corrupt The Souls Of Those They Rule.

O Strong Soul, By What Shore Tarriest Thou Now? For That Force, Surely, Has Not Been Left Vain!

Life Is Not Having And Getting, But Being And Becoming

Fate Gave, What Chance Shall Not Control, His Sad Lucidity Of Soul.