I Have Touched The Highest Point Of

Let Us, Like Merchants, Show Our Foulest Wares, And Think Perchance They'll Sell; If Not, The Lustre Of The Better Yet To Show Shall Show The Better.

Nature Does Require Her Times Of Preservation.

What? Do I Love Her, That I Desire To Hear Her Speak Again, And Feast Upon Her Eyes

O, How I Faint When I Of You Do Write, Knowing A Better Spirit Doth Use Your Name, And In The Praise Thereof Spends All His Might To Make Me Tongue-tied Speaking Of Your Fame.

There Was Never Yet Philosopher That Could Endure The Toothache Patiently