My Love Is Deep; The

Affliction Is Enamoured Of Thy Parts, And Thou Art Wedded To Calamity.

I Know A Bank Where The Wild Thyme Blows, Where Oxlips And The Nodding Violet Grows, Quite Over-canopied With Luscious Woodbine, With Sweet Musk-roses And With Eglantine.

Once More Unto The Breach, Dear Friends, Once More; Or Close The Wall With Our English Dead.

There's Hope A Great Man's Memory May Outlive His Life Half A Year.

All The World's A Stage, And All The Men And Women Mearly Players.