My Heart Is Ever At Your Service.

Sound Trumpets! Let Our Bloody Colours Wave! And Either Victory, Or Else A Grave.

Four Days Will Quickly Steep Themselves In Nights; Four Nights Will Quickly Dream Away The Time; And Then The Moon, Like To A Silver Bow New Bent In Heaven, Shall Behold The Night Of Our Solemnities.

For Death Remembered Should Be Like A Mirror, Who Tells Us Life’s But Breath, To Trust It Error.

A Virtuous And A Christianlike Conclusion-- To Pray For Them That Have Done Scathe To Us.

The Soul Of This Man Is His Clothes.