Look On Beauty, And You Shall See

To Show Our Simple Skill, That Is The True Beginning Of Our End.

Fools Are As Like Husbands As Pilchards Are To Herrings, The Husband's The Bigger.

For There Was Never Yet Philosoper That Could Endure The Toothache Patiently, However They Have Writ The Style Of Gods, And Made A Push At Chance And Sufferance.

In Thy Youth Wast As True A Lover, As Ever Sighed Upon A Midnight Pillow

They May Seize On The White Wonder Of Dear Juliet's Hand And Steal Immortal Blessing From Her Lips, Who, Even In Pure And Vestal Modesty, Still Blush, As Thinking Their Own Kisses Sin.