When I Waked, I Cried To Dream

A Good Sherris-sack Hath A Twofold Operation In It. It Ascends Me Into The Brain,... Makes It Apprehensive, Quick, Forgetive, Full Of Nimble, Fiery, And Delectable Shapes.

My Only Love Sprung From My Only Hate.

And This, Our Life, Exempt From Public Haunt, Finds Tongues In Trees, Books In The Running Brooks, Sermons In Stones, And Good In Everything.

I Cannot Tell What The Dickens His Name Is.

There's Neither Honesty, Manhood, Nor Good Fellowship In Thee.