For I Can Raise No Money By

A Countenance More In Sorrow Than In Anger.

Lovers Ever Run Before The Clock

Look Like The Innocent Flower, But Be The Serpent Under It.

The Apparel Oft Proclaims The Man.

O, Then I See Queen Mab Hath Been With You. . . . She Is The Fairies’ Midwife, And She Comes In Shape No Bigger Than An Agate Stone On The Forefinger Of An Alderman, Drawn With A Team Of Little Atomi Athwart Men’s Noses As They Lie Asleep.