You Abilities Are Too Infant-like For Doing

Passion Lends Them Power, Time Means To Meet, Tempering Extremities With Extremes Sweet.

I Thought My Heart Had Been Wounded With The Claws Of A Lion.

Oh What Fools We Mortals Are.

This Thou Perceivest, Which Makes Thy Love More Strong, To Love That Well Which Thou Must Leave Ere Long

You Cannot Call It Love, For At Your Age The Heyday In The Blood Is Tame