I Am One, Sir, That Comes To

This Making Of Christians Will Raise The Price Of Hogs.

We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On; And Our Little Life Is Rounded With A Sleep.

Be Like You Thought Our Love Would Last Too Long, If It Were Chain'd Together

I Have Seen Better Faces In My Time Than Stands On Any Shoulder That I See Before Me At This Instant.

Thus Weary Of The World, Away She Hies, And Yokes Her Silver Doves; By Whose Swift Aid Their Mistress Mounted Through The Empty Skies In Her Light Chariot Quickly Is Convey'd; Holding Their Course To Paphos, Where Their Queen Means To Immure Herself And Not Be Seen.