I Never See Thy Face But I

There's A Divinity That Shapes Our Ends, Rough-hew Them How We Will.

The Chameleon Love Can Feed On The Air

Ay, That Incestuous, That Adulterate Beast, With Witchcraft Of His Wit, With Traitorous Gifts- O Wicked Wit And Gifts, That Have The Power So To Seduce!

Wise Men Ne'er Sit And Wail Their Woes, But Presently Prevent The Ways To Wail.

So Many Horrid Ghosts.