Yea From The Table Of My Memory

I Am A Foe To Tyrants, And My Country's Friend.

Like The Lily That Once Was Mistress Of The Field And Flourished, I'll Hang My Head And Perish.

Lovers And Madmen Have Such Seething Brains Such Shaping Fantasies, That Apprehend More Than Cool Reason Ever Comprehends.

Glory Grows Guilty Of Detested Crimes.

But Jealous Souls Will Not Be Answered So, They Are Not Ever Jealous For The Cause, But Jealous For They're Jealous. 'tis A Monster Begot Upon Itself, Born On Itself.