You Are Not Wood, You

Speak Me Fair In Death.

Nay, Had I Pow'r, I Should Pour The Sweet Milk Of Concord Into Hell, Uproar The Universal Peace, Confound All Unity On Earth.

You Will Never Age For Me, Nor Fade, Nor Die.

Virtue Itself Scapes Not Calumnious Strokes.

This Thing Of Darkness I Acknowlege Mine. There Is Nothing More Confining Than The Prison We Don't Know We Are In.