My friends were poor, but honest, so's my love.
Now entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
A great cause of the night is lack of the sun.
Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light
ROSS You must have patience, madam. LADY MACDUFF He had none: His flight was madness: when our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.
To England will I steal, and there I'll steal.