The Sight Of Lovers Feedeth Those In

Preferment Goes By Letter And Affection, And Not By Old Gradation, Where Each Second Stood Heir To Th's First.

Two Loves I Have, Of Comfort And Despair, Which Like Two Spirits Do Suggest Me Still: The Better Angel Is A Man Right Fair, The Worser Spirit A Woman Coloured Ill.

We Must Be Brief When Traitors Brave The Field.

Knit Your Hearts With An Unslipping Knot.

The Glowworm Shows The Matin To Be Near And Gins To Pale His Uneffectual Fire.