Love Asks Me No Questions, And Gives

In Truth, Fair Montague, I Am Too Fond.

Tis Not The Many Oaths That Make The Truth; But The Plain Single Vow, That Is Vow'd True.

Love Is A Smoke Made With The Fume Of Sighs.

All Impediments In Fancy's Course Are Motives Of More Fancy.

Thou Ever Young, Fresh, Lov'd, And Delicate Wooer, Whose Blush Doth Thaw The Consecrated Snow