We Have Some Salt Of

O Sleep! O Gentle Sleep! Nature's Soft Nurse.

To Die: - To Sleep: No More; And, By A Sleep To Say We End The Heart-ache And The Thousand Natural Shocks That Flesh Is Heir To, 'tis A Consummation Devoutly To Be Wished.

Blood Will Have Blood.

Thou Weedy Elf-skinned Canker-blossom!

A Pair Of Star-crossed Lovers.