Mirth Cannot Move A Soul In Agony.

You Know That I Do Fawn On Men, And Hug Them Hard, And After Scandal Them.

Things Sweet To Taste Prove In Digestion Sour.

Pardon, Gentles All, The Flat Unraised Spirits That Have Dared On This Unworthy Scaffold To Bring Forth So Great An Object.

Short Time Seems Long In Sorrow's Sharp Sustaining.

The Coward Dies A Thousand Deaths, The Valiant, Only Once!