Praising What Is Lost Makes The Remembrance

Thou Dost Conspire Against Thy Friend, Iago, If Thou But Think'st Him Wronged, And Mak'st His Ear A Stranger To Thy Thoughts.

Feed On Her Damask Cheek: She Pined In Thought, And With A Green And Yellow Melancholy She Sat Like Patience On A Monument, Smiling At Grief

But Love, First Learned In A Lady's Eyes, Lives Not Alone Immured In The Brain; But, With The Motion Of All Elements, Courses As Swift As Thought In Every Power, And Gives To Every Power A Double Power, Above Their Functions And Their Offices.

Poise The Cause In Justice's Equal Scales, Whose Beam Stands Sure, Whose Rightful Cause Prevails.

Unhappy That I Am, I Cannot Heave My Heart Into My Mouth.