He's Mad That Trusts In The Tameness

England Is Safe, If True Within Itself.

Simply The Thing That I Am Shall Make Me Live.

Ay, Much Is The Force Of Heaven-bred Poesy.

I Was Not Born Under A Rhyming Planet, Nor I Cannot Woo To In Festival Terms.

Self-love, My Liege, Is Not So Vile A Sin, As Self-neglecting.