Sweets Grown Common Lose Their Dear Delight.

Fortune Reigns In Gifts Of The World.

To Die, To Sleep - To Sleep, Perchance To Dream - Ay, There's The Rub, For In This Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come.

Love Asks Me No Questions, And Gives Me Endless Support.

A Merry Heart Goes All The Way, - A Sad One Tires Inan Hour.

Sir, In My Heart There Was A Kind Of Fighting That Would Not Let Me Sleep.