How Wayward Is This Foolish Love That,

They Have A Plentiful Lack Of Wit.

What Showers Arise, Blown With The Windy Tempest Of My Heart

Forever, And Forever, Farewell, Cassius! If We Do Meet Again, Why, We Shall Smile; If Not, Why Then This Parting Was Well Made.

Give Me Mine Angle, We'll To Th' River: There, My Music Playing Far Off, I Will Betray Tawny-finned Fishes. My Bended Hook Shall Pierce Their Slimy Jaws; And As I Draw Them Up, I'll Think Them Every One An Antony, And Say, 'ah, Ha! Are Caught!'

We Know What We Are, But Know Not What We May Be.