Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise!
For all have not the gift of martyrdom.
The World to Bacon does not only owe it's present knowledge, but its future too.
One of the greatest, most noble, and most sublime poems which either this age or nation has produced.
Among our crimes oblivion may be set.
I am devilishly afraid, that's certain; but ... I'll sing, that I may seem valiant.