For He Was Likely, Had He Been

Exit, Pursued By A Bear.

O, How I Faint When I Of You Do Write, Knowing A Better Spirit Doth Use Your Name, And In The Praise Thereof Spends All His Might To Make Me Tongue-tied Speaking Of Your Fame.

Let Me Have War, Say I; It Exceeds Peace As Far As Day Does Night; It's Spritely, Waking, Audible, And Full Of Vent.

The Appurtenance Of Welcome Is Fashion And Ceremony.

Death Is A Fearful Thing.