And Nothing Is, But What Is Not.

Which Can Say More Than This Rich Praise, That You Alone Are You?

In Me Thou See'st The Twilight Of Such Day As After Sunset Fadeth In The West, Which By And By Black Night Doth Take Away Death's Second Self, That Seals Up All In Rest. -sonnet 73

Forget, Forgive; Conclude, And Be Agreed.

But I Am Constant As The Northern Star, Of Whose True Fixed And Resting Quality There Is No Fellow In The Firmament.

Have You Not Love Enough To Bear With Me, When That Rash Humor Which My Mother Gave Me Makes Me Forgetful.