I Wasted Time, And Now Doth Time

O That A Lady, Of One Man Refused, Should Of Another Therefore Be Abused!

Merciful Heaven, Thou Rather With Thy Sharp And Sulphurous Bolt Splits The Unwedgeable And Gnarled Oak Than The Soft Myrtle; But Man, Proud Man, Dressed In A Little Brief Authority, Most Ignorant Of What He's Most Assured His Glassy Essence--like An Angry Ape Plays Such Fantastic Tricks Before High Heaven As Makes The Angels Weep; Who, With Our Spleens, Would All Themselves Laugh Mortal.

Time Doth Transfix The Flourish Set On Youth And Delves The Parallels In Beauty's Brow.

Last Scene Of All That Ends This Strange, Eventful History, Is Second Childishness And Mere Oblivion. I Am Sans Teeth, Sans Eyes, Sans Taste, Sans Everything.

Here Comes A Pair Of Very Strange Beasts, Which In All Tongues Are Called Fools.