Love Is Not Love That Alters When

How Many A Holy And Obsequious Tear Hath Dear Religious Love Stolen From Mine Eye, As Interest Of The Dead!

Let Never Day Nor Night Unhallowed Pass, But Still Remember What The Lord Hath Done.

So Curses All Eve's Daughters Of What Complexion Soever.

I Have Seen The Day Of Wrong Through The Little Hole Of Discretion, And I Will Right Myself Like A Soldier.

Thus We Play The Fool With The Time And The Spirits Of The Wise Sit In The Clouds And Mock Us.