Tomorrow, And Tomorrow, And Tomorrow,creeps In This

Your Worm Is Your Only Emperor For Diet; We Fat All Creatures Else To Fat Us, And We Fat Ourselves For Maggots.

What Early Tongue So Sweet Saluteth Me? Young Son, It Argues A Distemper'd Head So Soon To Bid Good Morrow To Thy Bed: Care Keeps His Watch In Every Old Man's Eye, And Where Care Lodges, Sleep Will Never Lie; But Where Unbruised Youth With Unstuff'd Brain Doth Couch His Limbs, There Golden Sleep Doth Reign.

And I Will Make It Felony To Drink Small Beer.

The Weary Sun Hath Made A Golden Set And By The Bright Tract Of His Fiery Car Gives Token Of A Goodly Day To-morrow.

Love Sees With The Heart And Not With Mind.