And I Will Make It

Will You Walk Out Of The Air, My Lord? Hamlet Into My Grave.

I Do I Know Not What, And Fear To Find Mine Eye Too Great A Flatterer For My Mind. Fate, Show Thy Force. Ourselves We Do Not Owe. What Is Decreed Must Be; And Be This So.

There Is A Kind Of Character In Thy Life, That To The Observer Doth Thy History, Fully Unfold.

Though Music Oft Hath Such A Charm To Make Bad Good, And Good Provoke To Harm.

For What Is Wedlock Forced But A Hell, An Age Of Discord And Continual Strife? Whereas The Contrary Bringeth Bliss, And Is A Pattern Of Celestial Peace.