Words, Words, Mere Words, No Matter From

The Heart Hath Treble Wrong When It Is Barr'd The Aidance Of The Tongue.

Uneasy Lies The Head That Wears A Crown.

True, I Talk Of Dreams, Which Are The Children Of An Idle Brain, Begot Of Nothing But Vain Fantasy.

Is Twenty Hundred Kisses Such A Trouble?

...vaulted With Such Ease Into His Seat, As If An Angel Dropp'd Down From The Clouds, To Turn And Wind A Fiery Pegasus, And Witch The World With Noble Horsemanship.