This Making Of Christians Will Raise The

Sweet Flowers Are Slow And Weeds Make Haste.

I Sat Upon A Promontory, And Heard A Mermaid, On A Dolphin's Back, Uttering Such Dulcet And Harmonious Breath, That The Rude Sea Grew Civil At Her Song; And Certain Stars Shot Madly From Their Spheres, To Hear The Sea-maid's Music.

He Lives In Fame That Died In Virtue's Cause.

Lay On, Mcduff, And Be Damned He Who First Cries, 'hold, Enough!

Gloucester, We Have Done Deeds Of Charity, Made Peace Of Enmity, Fair Love Of Hate, Between These Swelling Wrong-incensed Peers.