One Pain Is Lessened By

The Whirligig Of Time Brings In His Revenges.

Full Many A Glorious Morn I Have Seen Flatter The Mountain-tops With Sovereign Eye, Kissing With Golden Face The Meadows Green, Gilding Pale Streams With Heavenly Alchemy.

Doubting Things Go Ill Often Hurts More Than To Be Sure They Do; For Certainties Either Are Past Remedies, Or, Timely Knowing, The Remedy Then Born.

When Death Doth Close His Tender Dying Eyes.

The Blood Of Youth Burns Not With Such Excess As Gravity's Revolt To Wantonness.