As Chaste As Is The Bud Ere

I Am Never Merry When I Hear Sweet Music.

There Are A Sort Of Men, Whose Visages Do Cream And Mantle, Like A Standing Pond; And Do A Willful Stillness Entertain, With Purpose To Be Dressed In An Opinion Of Wisdom, Gravity Profound Conceit; As Who Should Say, I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark!

Thou Art A Castilian King Urinal!

Our Content Is Our Best Having.

Yet This My Comfort: When Your Words Are Done, My Woes End Likewise With The Evening Sun.