For Who So Firm That

Fortune Is Merry, And In This Mood Will Give Us Anything.

They Have Been At A Great Feast Of Languages, And Stolen The Scraps.

In Peace There's Nothing So Becomes A Man As Modest Stillness And Humility: But When The Blast Of War Blows In Our Ears, Then Imitate The Action Of The Tiger; Stiffen The Sinews, Summon Up The Blood, Disguise Fair Nature With Hard-favour'd Rage; Then Lend The Eye A Terrible Aspect; . . . . Now Set The Teeth And Stretch The Nostril Wide, Hold Hard The Breath And Bend Up Every Spirit To His Full Height. On, On, You Noblest English.

This Day's Black Fate On More Days Doth Depend; This But Begins The Woe, Others Must End.

So Curses All Eve's Daughters Of What Complexion Soever.