Stars, Hide Your Fires; Let Not Light

What Time Hath Scanted Men In Hair, He Hath Given Them In Wit.

If We Shadows Have Offended, Think But This, And All Is Mended, That You Have But Slumber'd Here While These Visions Did Appear.

In Scorn Of Nature, Art Gave Lifeless Life.

Thus With A Kiss I Die

Thus Die I, Thus, Thus, Thus. Now Am I Dead, Now Am I Fled; My Soul Is In The Sky: Tongue, Lose Thy Light; Moon Take Thy Flight. Now Die, Die, Die, Die, Die.