Speak, My Fair, And Fairly, I Pray

This Is The Short And The Long Of It.

How Low Am I, Thou Painted Maypole?

Comets Importing Change Of Times And States, Brandish Your Crystal Tresses In The Sky And With Them Scourge The Bad Revolting Stars.

Thou Art A Boil, A Plague Sore, An Embossed Carbuncle In My Corrupted Blood.

Awake, Dear Heart, Awake. Thou Hast Slept Well. Awake.