Love, Which Teacheth Me That Thou And

Give Me A Bowl Of Wine, In This I Bury All Unkindness.

I Will Be Master Of What Is Mine Own: She Is My Goods, My Chattels; She Is My House, My Household Stuff, My Field, My Barn, My Horse, My Ox, My Ass, My Any Thing.

If It Will Feed Nothing Else, It Will Feed My Revenge.

A Very Ancient And Fish-like Smell.

Sorrow, Like A Heavy Ringing Bell, Once Set On Ringing, With Its Own Weight Goes; Then Little Strength Rings Out The Doleful Knell.