Let The End Try The

These Words Are Razors To My Wounded Heart.

O War! Thou Son Of Hell!

Nymph, In Thy Orisons Be All My Sins Remembered!

Woah Is Me To Have Seen What I Seen See What I See

From This Day To The Ending Of The World, But We In It Shall Be Remembered- We Few, We Happy Few, We Band Of Brothers; For He To-day That Sheds His Blood With Me Shall Be My Brother; Be He Ne’er So Vile, This Day Shall Gentle His Condition; And Gentlemen In England Now-a-bed Shall Think Themselves Accurs’d They Were Not Here, And Hold Their Manhoods Cheap Whiles Any Speaks That Fought With Us Upon Saint Crispin’s Day.