For I Am Proverbed With A Grandsire

There Is No Vice So Simple But Assumes Some Mark Of Virtue On His Outward Parts.

Beshrew That Heart That Makes My Heart To Groan For That Deep Wound It Gives My Friend And Me; Is't Not Enough To Torture Me Alone, But Slave To Slavery My Sweet'st Friend Must Be?

Vile Worm, Thou Wast O'erlook'd Even In Thy Birth.

Under Loves Heavy Burden Do I Sink. --romeo

Yon Grey Lines That Fret The Clouds Are Messengers Of Day.