Men Judge By The Complexion Of The

For Grief Is Crowned With Consolation.

Pride Went Before, Ambition Follows Him.

This Royal Throne Of Kings, This Scepter'd Isle, This Earth Of Majesty, This Seat Of Mars, This Other Eden, Demi-paradise.

The Summer's Flow'r Is To The Summer Sweet, Though To Itself It Only Live And Die' But If That Flow'r With Base Infection Meet, The Basest Weed Outbraves His Dignity: For Sweetest Things Turn Sourest By Their Deeds; Lilies That Fester Smell Far Worse Than Weeds.

Better Conquest Never Canst Thou Make Than Arm Thy Constant And Thy Nobler Parts Against Giddy, Loose Suggestions.