All Gold And Silver Rather Turn To

So Doth The Greater Glory Dim The Less: A Substitute Shines Brightly As A King Until A King Be By.

And Writers Say, As The Most Forward Bud Is Eaten By The Canker Ere It Blow, Even So By Love The Young And Tender Wit Is Turn'd To Folly, Blasting In The Bud, Losing His Verdure Even In The Prime, And All The Fair Effects Of Future Hopes.

What Early Tongue So Sweet Saluteth Me?

Grace Me No Grace, Nor Uncle Me No Uncle; I Am No Traitor's Uncle, And That Word "grace" In An Ungracious Mouth Is But Profane.

Things Won Are Done, Joy's Soul Lies In The Doing.