My Love Admits No Qualifying Dross

What's In A Name? That Which We Call A Rose By Any Other Name Would Smell As Sweet.

Give To A Gracious Message An Host Of Tongues, But Let Ill Tidings Tell Themselves When They Be Felt.

Would I Were Dead, If God's Good Will Were So, For What Is In This World But Grief And Woe?

And Ruin`d Love When It Is Built Anew, Grows Fairer Than At First, More Strong, Far Greater

In Right And Service To Their Noble Country.