Fight To The Last Gasp.

They Are Fairies; He That Speaks To Them Shall Die. I'll Wink And Couch; No Man Their Works Must Eye.

My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still.

If I Shall Be Condemned Upon Surmises, All Proofs Sleeping Else But What Your Jealousies Awake, I Tell You 'tis Rigor And Not Law.

I Was Not Born Under A Rhyming Planet, Nor I Cannot Woo To In Festival Terms.

I Would Not Wish Any Companion In The World But You.