Something Is Rotten In The State Of

How Much An Ill Word May Empoison Liking!

There Is Throats To Be Cut, And Works To Be Done.

We Came Into The World Like Brother And Brother, And Now Let's Go Hand In Hand, Not One Before Another.

Lovers Ever Run Before The Clock

Oh! That You Could Turn Your Eyes Towards The Napes Of Your Necks, And Make But An Interior Survey Of Your Good Selves.