Nothing Comes From Doing Nothing.

And Where Two Raging Fires Meet Together, They Do Consume The Thing That Feeds Their Fury.

Alas, That Love, Whose View Is Muffled Still, Should Without Eyes See Pathways To His Will!

So We'll Live, And Pray, And Sing, And Tell Old Tales, And Laugh At Gilded Butterflies.

Now, Good Digestion Wait On Appetite, And Health On Both!

O, Then I See Queen Mab Hath Been With You. . . . She Is The Fairies’ Midwife, And She Comes In Shape No Bigger Than An Agate Stone On The Forefinger Of An Alderman, Drawn With A Team Of Little Atomi Athwart Men’s Noses As They Lie Asleep.