The Barge She Sat In, Like A

From This Day To The Ending Of The World, But We In It Shall Be Remembered- We Few, We Happy Few, We Band Of Brothers; For He To-day That Sheds His Blood With Me Shall Be My Brother; Be He Ne’er So Vile, This Day Shall Gentle His Condition; And Gentlemen In England Now-a-bed Shall Think Themselves Accurs’d They Were Not Here, And Hold Their Manhoods Cheap Whiles Any Speaks That Fought With Us Upon Saint Crispin’s Day.

The Hand That Hath Made You Fair Hath Made You Good. Pity Is The Virtue Of The Law, And None But Tyrants Use It Cruelly.

Adversity's Sweet Milk, Philosophy.

This Passion, And The Death Of A Dear Friend, Would Go Near To Make A Man Look Sad.

We Do Not Keep The Outward Form Of Order, Where There Is Deep Disorder In The Mind.