Hang There Like Fruit, My Soul, Till

I Can Call Spirits From The Vasty Deep.

We Make Ourselves Fools To Disport Ourselves And Spend Our Flatteries To Drink Those Men Upon Whose Age We Void It Up Again With Poisonous Spite And Envy.

Is This A Vision? Is This A Dream? Do I Sleep?

What's In A Name? That Which We Call A Rose By Any Other Name Would Smell As Sweet.

But Love, First Learned In A Lady's Eyes, Lives Not Alone Immured In The Brain; But, With The Motion Of All Elements, Courses As Swift As Thought In Every Power, And Gives To Every Power A Double Power, Above Their Functions And Their Offices.