Ill Met By Moonlight, Proud Titania

Wolves And Bears, They Say, Casting Their Savagery Aside, Have Done Like Offices Of Pity.

Affection, Mistress Of Passion, Sways It To The Mood Of What It Likes Or Loathes.

Kindness In Women, Not Their Beauteous Looks, Shall Win My Love.

Love Reasons Without Reason.

O, How Shall Summer's Honey Breath Hold Out Against The Wreckful Siege Of Battering Days, When Rocks Impregnable Are Not So Stout, Nor Gates Of Steel So Strong, But Time Decays?