They Lie Deadly That Tell

Let Us Not Burden Our Remembrances With A Heaviness That's Gone.

I Shall Laugh Myself To Death At This Puppy-headed Monster!

Slander Lives Upon Succession, For Ever Housed Where It Gets Possession.

But Shall We Wear These Glories For A Day? Or Shall They Last, And We Rejoice In Them?

O, Let My Books Be Then The Eloquence And Dumb Presagers Of My Speaking Breast, Who Plead For Love, And Look For Recompense, More Than That Tongue That More Hath More Expressed.