Things Base And Vile, Holding No Quantity,

Did My Heart Love Till Now? Forswear It, Sight! For I Ne'er Saw True Beauty Till This Night.

And Crispin Crispian Shall Ne'er Go By, From This Day To The Ending Of The World, But We In It Shall Be Remembered- We Few, We Happy Few, We Band Of Brothers; For He To-day That Sheds His Blood With Me Shall Be My Brother

Why, Then The World ’s Mine Oyster, Which I With Sword Will Open.

Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent.

Oh, How This Spring Of Love Resembleth, The Uncertain Glory Of An April Day, Which Now Shows All Beauty Of The Sun, And By And By A Cloud Takes All Away