If I Lose My Honor,

The Instances That Second Marriage Move Are Base Respects Of Thrift, But None Of Love.

My Crown Is Called Content, A Crown That Seldom Kings Enjoy.

The Gray-eyed Morn Smiles On The Frowning Night, Checkering The Eastern Clouds With Streaks Of Light.

Thoughts Are But Dreams Till Their Effects Are Tried.

There Is A History In All Men's Lives, Figuring The Nature Of The Times Deceased, The Which Observed, A Man May Prophesy, With A Near Aim, Of The Main Chance Of Things As Yet Not Come To Life, Which In Their Seeds And Weak Beginnings Lie Intreasured.