Who's a prince or beggar in the grave?
Children blessings seem, but torments are.
Shining through tears, like April suns in showers, that labor to overcome the cloud that loads em.
Clocks will go as they are set, but man, irregular man, is never constant, never certain.
Let us embrace, and from this very moment vow an eternal misery together.
Honesty needs no disguise nor ornament; be plain.