Go Hang Yourself, You Naughty

Death Is My Son-in-law. Death Is My Heir. My Daughter He Hath Wedded. I Will Die, And Leave Him All. Life, Living, All Is Death’s.

Shorten My Days Thou Canst With Sullen Sorrow, And Pluck Nights From Me, But Not Lend A Morrow; Thou Canst Help Time To Furrow Me With Age, But Stop No Wrinkle In His Pilgrimage.

No Stony Bulwark Can Resist The Love, And Love Dares What Anyone Can Love.

One Pain Is Lessened By Another's Anguish.

Love Is Blind And Lovers Cannot See The Pretty Follies That Themselves Commit