O Wretched State! O Bosom Black As

Tis Not A Year Or Two Shows Us A Man: They Are All But Stomachs, And We All But Food; They Eat Us Hungerly, And When They Are Full They Belch Us.

Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

What Is Done Cannot Be Now Amended.

Farewell! God Knows When We Shall Meet Again.

Thou Weigh'st Thy Words Before Thou Givest Them Breath.