The Sudden Hand Of Death Close Up

I Will Despair, And Be At Enmity With Cozening Hope.

Love's Not Time's Fool, Though Rosy Lips And Cheeks Within His Bending Sickle's Compass Come; Love Alters Not With His Brief Hours And Weeks, But Bears It Out Even To The Edge Of Doom. If This Be Error And Upon Me Prov'd, I Never Writ, Nor No Man Ever Lov'd.

A Happy Ending Cannot Come In The Middle Of The Story

For Never Was A Story Of More Woe Than This Of Juliet And Her Romeo.

If Yon Bethink Yourself Of Any Crime Unreconcil'd As Yet To Heaven And Grace, Solicit For It Straight.