Season Your Admiration For A While.

But Whate'er You Are That In This Desert Inaccessible, Under The Shade Of Melancholy Boughs, Lose And Neglect The Creeping Hours Of Time; If You Have Ever Looked On Better Days, If Ever Been Where Bells Knoll'd To Church, If Ever Sat At Any Good Man's Feast, If Ever From Your Eyelids Wiped A Tear, And Know What 'tis To Pity And Be Pitied, Let Gentleness My Strong Enforcement Be. . . .

The Presence Of A King Engenders Love Amongst His Subjects, And His Royal Friends.

Like The Lily That Once Was Mistress Of The Field And Flourished, I'll Hang My Head And Perish.

In Truth, Fair Montague, I Am Too Fond.

What Ugly Sights Of Death Within Mine Eyes!