By The Pricking Of My Thumbs, Something

Hell Is Empty And All The Devils Are Here.

From Women's Eyes This Doctrine I Derive: They Sparkle Still The Right Promethean Fire; They Are The Books, The Arts, The Academes, That Show, Contain And Nourish All The World.

What Is Aught But As 'tis Valued?

Beggar That I Am, I Am Even Poor In Thanks

Thou Lump Of Foul Deformity!