Unsubstantial Death Is Amorous.

My Thought, Whose Murder Yet Is But Fantastical, Shakes So My Single State Of Man That Function Is Smothered In Surmise, And Nothing Is But What Is Not.

Let No Such Man Be Trusted.

Remember Thee! Ay, Thou Poor Ghost, While Memory Holds A Seat In This Distracted Globe.

Yea From The Table Of My Memory I'll Wipe Away All Trivial Fond Records.

Doubt Is A Thief That Often Makes Us Fear To Tread Where We Might Have Won.