Britain Is A World By Itself, And

Ay; Beauty's Princely Majesty Is Such, Confounds The Tongue And Makes The Senses Rough.

The Lady Doth Protest Too Much, Methinks.

Tis Much When Sceptres Are In Children's Hands, But More When Envy Breeds Unkind Division: There Comes The Ruin, There Begins Confusion.

O Gentlemen, The Time Of Life Is Short! To Spend That Shortness Basely Were Too Long, If Life Did Ride Upon A Dial's Point, Still Ending At The Arrival Of An Hour.

Nor Stony Tower, Nor Walls Of Beaten Brass, Nor Airless Dungeon, Nor Strong Links Of Iron, Can Be Retentive To The Strength Of Spirit; But Life, Being Weary Of These Worldly Bars, Never Lacks Power To Dismiss Itself.