Amos, I'll be as suggestive and learing as I want to be! Nyaa!


"Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!        
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!        
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,        
Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,        
Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world!        
Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once        
That make ingrateful man!"        

"Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain!        
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters:        
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness;        
I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children,
You owe me no subscription: then, let fall        
Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave,        
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man.        
But yet I call you servile ministers,        
That have with two pernicious daughters join'd        
Your high-engender'd battles 'gainst a head        
So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul."