Madness In Great Ones Must Not Unwatched

Rumour Is A Pipe Blown By Surmises, Jealousies, Conjectures And Of So Easy And So Plain A Stop That The Blunt Monster With Uncounted Heads, The Still-discordant Wavering Multitude, Can Play Upon It.

It Were A Grief So Brief To Part With Thee. Farewell.

Love, Whose Month Is Ever May, Spied A Blossom Passing Fair, Playing In The Wanton Air: Through The Velvet Leaves The Wind, All Unseen Can Passage Find; That The Lover, Sick To Death, Wish'd Himself The Heaven's Breath.

Miracles Are Ceased; And Therefore We Must Needs Admit The Means, How Things Are Perfected.

Oh, That Way Madness Lies; Let Me Shun That.