These Blessed Candles Of The

Wisdom Cries Out In The Streets, And No Man Regards It.

She Will Die If You Love Her Not, And She Will Die Ere She Might Make Her Love Known

There Are A Sort Of Men, Whose Visages Do Cream And Mantle, Like A Standing Pond; And Do A Willful Stillness Entertain, With Purpose To Be Dressed In An Opinion Of Wisdom, Gravity Profound Conceit; As Who Should Say, I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark!

Boldness Be My Friend.

Thus Is His Cheek The Map Of Days Outworn.