The Weariest And Most Loathed Worldly Life,

He Says, He Loves My Daughter; I Think So Too; For Never Gaz'd The Moon Upon The Water, As He'll Stand And Read, As 'twere, My Daughter's Eyes: And, To Be Plain, I Think, There Is Not Half A Kiss To Choose, Who Loves Another Best.

Myself Will Straight Aboard, And To The State This Heavy Act With Heavy Heart Relate.

O That My Tongue Were In The Thunder's Mouth! Then With Passion Would I Shake The World, And Rouse From Sleep That Fell Anatomy Which Cannot Hear A Lady's Feeble Voice, Which Scorns A Modern Invocation.

Every Fair From Fair Sometime Declines

My Hands Are Of Your Color, But I Shame To Wear A Heart So White.