You Have Witchcraft In Your Lips

I May Command Where I Adore.

Do You Bite Your Thumb At Us, Sir?

How Much More Doth Beauty Beauteous Seem By That Sweet Ornament Which Truth Doth Give!

Like As The Waves Make Towards The Pebbl'd Shore, So Do Our Minutes, Hasten To Their End.

I Would With Such Perfection Govern, Sir, T'excel The Golden Age.