Full Fathom Five Thy Father

Come, Let's Have One Other Gaudy Night. Call To Me All My Sad Captains. Fill Our Bowls Once More. Let's Mock The Midnight Bell.

O Gentle Son, Upon The Heat And Flame Of Thy Distemper, Sprinkle Cool Patience.

I Do The Wrong, And First Begin To Brawl. The Secret Mischiefs That I Set Abroach I Lay Unto The Grievous Charge Of Others.

A Time, Methinks, Too Short To Make A World-without-end Bargain In.

You Undergo Too Strict A Paradox, Striving To Make An Ugly Deed Look Fair.