You Are Made Rather To Wonder At

Their Savage Eyes Turned To A Modest Gaze By The Sweet Power Of Music.

The Thing Of Courage As Rous'd With Rage Doth Sympathise, And, With An Accent Tun'd In Self-same Key, Retorts To Chiding Fortune.

I Will Be Correspondent To Command, And Do My Spiriting Gently.

Methinks A Father Is At The Nuptial Of His Son A Guest That Best Becomes The Table.

I Will Not Be Sworn But Love May Transform Me To An Oyster