I Will Do Anything, Nerissa, Ere I'll

For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground, And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings... All Murdered; For Within The Hollow Crown That Rounds The Mortal Temples Of A King, Keeps Death His Court... And With A Little Pin Bores Through His Castle Wall, And Farewell King!

O Sleep! O Gentle Sleep! Nature's Soft Nurse.

Good Hay, Sweet Hay, Hath No Fellow.

Adieu! I Have Too Grieved A Heart To Take A Tedious Leave.

Trifles Light As Air Are To The Jealous Confirmations Strong As Proofs Of Holy Writ.