I Am Not Only Witty In Myself,

Farewell! Thou Art Too Dear For My Possessing.

Here, Thou Incestuous, Murderous, Damned Dane, Drink Off This Potion!

There's Husbandry In Heaven; Their Candles Are All Out.

Crowns In My Purse I Have, And Goods At Home, And So Am Come Abroad To See The World.

These Are The Forgeries Of Jealousy; And Never, Since The Middle Summer's Spring, Met We On Hill, In Dale, Forest, Or Mead, By Paved Fountain Or By Rushy Brook, Or In The Beached Margent Of The Sea, To Dance Our Ringlets To The Whistling Wind, But With Thy Brawls Thou Hast Disturbed Our Sport.