All His Successors Gone Before Him Have

O, Pardon Me, Thou Bleeding Piece Of Earth, / That I Am Meek And Gentle With These Butchers!

Silence Is The Perfect Herald Of Joy.

For My Part, I May Speak It To My Shame, I Have A Truant Been To Chivalry; And So I Hear He Doth Account Me Too.

Affection, Mistress Of Passion, Sways It To The Mood Of What It Likes Or Loathes.

Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day?