Who Is So Firm That Can't Be

Adversity Makes Strange Bedfellows.

For Death Remembered Should Be Like A Mirror, Who Tells Us Life’s But Breath, To Trust It Error.

My Thought, Whose Murder Yet Is But Fantastical, Shakes So My Single State Of Man That Function Is Smothered In Surmise, And Nothing Is But What Is Not.

Foul Deeds Will Rise, Though All The Earth O'erwhelm Them, To Men's Eyes.

So Shalt Thou Feed On Death, That Feeds On Men.