Plain And Not Honest Is Too Harsh

Fairest Cordelia, That Art Most Rich, Being Poor; Most Choice, Forsaken; And Most Loved, Despised! Thee And Thy Virtues Here I Seize Upon: Be It Lawful I Take Up What's Cast Away. Gods, Gods! 'tis Strange That From Their Cold'st Neglect My Love Should Kindle To Inflamed Respect. Thy Dowerless Daughter, King, Thrown To My Chance, Is Queen Of Us, Of Ours, And Our Fair France: Not All The Dukes Of Waterish Burgundy Can Buy This Unprized Precious Maid Of Me. Bid Them Farewell, Cordelia, Though Unkind: Thou Losest Here, A Better Where To Find.

Thriftless Ambition, That Wilt Ravin Up Thine Own Life's Means!

Two Lovely Berries Moulded On One Stem; So, With Two Seeming Bodies, But One Heart.

The Day Shall Not Be Up So Soon As I, To Try The Fair Adventure Of Tomorrow.

Tis But A Base, Ignoble Mind That Mounts No Higher Than A Bird Can Soar.