There was a star danced, and under that was I born.
Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, For things that are not to be remedied.
When most I wink, then do my eyes best see
A dream itself is but a shadow.
Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day.
And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.