Love Is Familiar. Love Is A Devil.

For This Relief, Much Thanks

Be Not Afeard; The Isle Is Full Of Noises, Sounds, And Sweet Airs, That Give Delight And Hurt Not. Sometimes A Thousand Twangling Instruments Will Hum About Mine Ears; And Sometime Voices, That, If I Then Had Waked After Long Sleep, Will Make Me Sleep Again: And Then, In Dreaming, The Clouds Methought Would Open, And Show Riches Ready To Drop Upon Me; That, When I Waked, I Cried To Dream Again.

All The World's A Stage, And All The Men And Women Mearly Players.

Leave Us To Our Free Election.

All Days Are Nights To See Till I See Thee, And Nights Bright Days When Dreams Do Show Thee Me.