So Musical A Discord, Such Sweet Thunder.

And By That Destiny To Perform An Act Whereof What's Past Is Prologue, What To Come In Yours And My Discharge.

Heaven Would That She These Gifts Should Have, And I To Live And Die Her Slave.

Now The Melancholy God Protect Thee, And The Tailor Make Thy Garments Of Changeable Taffeta, For Thy Mind Is Opal.

So Wise So Young, They Say, Do Never Live Long.

And Blind Oblivion Swallowed Cities Up.