All That Glisters Is Not Gold; Often

Love Will Not Be Spurred To What It Loathes

To Die, Is To Be Banish'd From Myself; And Silvia Is Myself: Banish'd From Her, Is Self From Self: A Deadly Banishment! What Light Is Light, If Silvia Be Not Seen? What Joy Is Joy, If Silvia Be Not By? Unless It Be To Think That She Is By, And Feed Upon The Shadow Of Perfection. Except I Be By Silvia In The Night, There Is No Music In The Nightingale; Unless I Look On Silvia In The Day, There Is No Day For Me To Look Upon; She Is My Essence, And I Leave To Be, If I Be Not By Her Fair Influence Foster'd, Illumin'd, Cherish'd, Kept Alive.

My Purpose Is, Indeed, A Horse Of That Color.

How Soar Sweet Music Is, When Time Is Broke, And No Proportion Kept!

How Ill White Hairs Become A Fool And Jester!