The Miserable Have No Other Medicine But

If Thou Couldst, Doctor, Cast The Water Of My Land, Find Her Disease, And Purge It To A Sound And Pristine Health, I Would Applaud Thee To The Very Echo, That Should Applaud You Again.

Neither A Borrower Nor A Lender Be.

That England, That Was Wont To Conquer Others, Hath Made A Shameful Conquest Of Itself.

For Here, I Hope, Begins Our Lasting Joy.

There Are Many Events In The Womb Of Time Which Will Be Delivered.