So Many Miseries Have Craz'd My Voice,

England, Bound In With The Triumphant Sea, Whose Rocky Shore Beats Back The Envious Siege Of Watery Neptune.

Give Me My Robe, Put On My Crown; I Have Immortal Longings In Me.

Moderate Lamentation Is The Right Of The Dead, Excessive Grief The Enemy To The Living.

What Is Past Is Prologue.

Passion Makes The Will Lord Of The Reason.