And Therefore Is Love Said To Be

The Moon, Like To A Silver Bow New Bent In Heaven.

Sleep Knits Up The Raveled Sleeve Of Care.

Men From Children Nothing Differ.

And Do So, Love, Yet When They Have Devised What Strainèd Touches Rhetoric Can Lend, Thou, Truly Fair, Wert Truly Sympathized In True Plain Words By Thy True-telling Friend; And Their Gross Painting Might Be Better Used Where Cheeks Need Blood; In Thee It Is Abused.

I Will Not Be Sworn But Love May Transform Me To An Oyster; But I'll Take My Oath On It, Till He Have Made An Oyster Of Me He Shall Never Make Me Such A Fool.