I Never See Thy Face But I

The One I Love Is The Son Of The One I Hate! -juliet P. 75

Her Virtues, Graced With External Gifts, Do Breed Love's Settled Passions In My Heart; And Like As Rigour Of Tempestuous Gusts Provokes The Mightiest Hulk Against The Tide, So Am I Driven By Breath Of Her Renown Either To Suffer Shipwreck Or Arrive Where I May Have Fruition Of Her Love.

Never; He Will Not: Age Cannot Wither Her, Nor Custom Stale Her Infinite Variety: Other Women Cloy The Appetites They Feed: But She Makes Hungry Where Most She Satisfies.

To Die: - To Sleep: No More; And, By A Sleep To Say We End The Heart-ache And The Thousand Natural Shocks That Flesh Is Heir To, 'tis A Consummation Devoutly To Be Wished.

While He Was Drunk Asleep, Or In His Rage, Or In The Incestuous Pleasure Of His Bed.