The Breach Of Custom Is Breach Of

If I Must Die, I Will Encounter Darkness As A Bride, And Hug It In Mine Arms.

The Native Hue Of Resolution Is Sicklied O'er With The Pale Cast Of Thought; And Enterprises Of Great Pitch And Moment, With This Regard, Their Currents Turn Awry, And Lose The Name Of Action.

We Are Advertis'd By Our Loving Friends.

While We Lie Tumbling In The Hay.

If Wishes Would Prevail With Me, My Purpose Should Not Fail With Me.