Tis A Happy Thing To Be The

Summer's Lease Hath All Too Short A Date.

For Truth Hath Better Deeds Than Words To Grace It.

I Came, Saw, And Overcame.

I See That The Fashion Wears Out More Apparel Than The Man.

True, I Talk Of Dreams, Which Are The Children Of An Idle Brain, Begot Of Nothing But Vain Fantasy, Which Is As Thin Of Substance As The Air, And More Inconstant Than The Wind, Who Woos Even Now The Frozen Bosom Of The North, And, Being Anger'd, Puffs Away From Thence, Turning His Side To The Dew-dropping South.