This is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrows is remembering happier things.

This is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrows is remembering happier things.

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied read more

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.

This is the real secret of all that indignation.

This is the real secret of all that indignation.

Debters are lyers.

Debters are lyers.

When yet was ever found a mother
Who'd give her booby for another?

When yet was ever found a mother
Who'd give her booby for another?

God has joined the innocent with the guilty.

God has joined the innocent with the guilty.

Worship and birth to me are known
By look, by bearing, and by tone,
Not by furred read more

Worship and birth to me are known
By look, by bearing, and by tone,
Not by furred robe, or broidered zone.

The Chollerick drinkes, the Melancholick eats, the Flegmatick
sleepes.

The Chollerick drinkes, the Melancholick eats, the Flegmatick
sleepes.

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he
will not depart read more

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he
will not depart from it.