I Speak Of Peace, While Covert Enmity

The Undeserver May Sleep When The Man Of Action Is Called On.

As In A Theatre, The Eyes Of Men, After A Well-graced Actor Leaves The Stage, Are Idly Bent On Him That Enters Next.

How Many Things By Season Seasoned Are To Their Right Praise And True Perfection!

Extremity Is The Trier Of Spirits.

O, How Shall Summer's Honey Breath Hold Out Against The Wreckful Siege Of Battering Days, When Rocks Impregnable Are Not So Stout, Nor Gates Of Steel So Strong, But Time Decays?