While Thou Livest Keep A Good Tongue

And When Love Speaks, The Voice Of All The Gods Makes Heaven Drowsy With The Harmony.

Speak The Speech, I Pray You, As I Pronounced It To You-trippingly On The Tongue; But If You Mouth It, As Many Of Your Players Do, I Had As Lief The Town-crier Spoke My Lines. Nor Do Not Saw The Air Too Much With Your Hand, Thus, But Use All Gently; For In The Very Torrent, Tempest, And As I May Say, The Whirlwind Of Your Passion, You Must Acquire And Beget A Temperance That May Give It Smoothness.

A High Hope For A Low Heaven: God Grant Us Patience!

The Poet's Eye, In A Fine Frenzy Rolling, Doth Glance From Heaven To Earth, From Earth To Heaven.

To Be Now A Sensible Man, By And By A Fool, And Presently A Beast!