Thank Me No Thankings, Nor Proud Me

I Can Express No Kinder Sign Of Love, Than This Kind Kiss.

I'll Make Death Love Me; For I Will Contend Even With His Pestilent Scythe.

Flesh And Blood, You, Brother Mine, That Entertain'd Ambition, Expell'd Remorse And Nature, Who, With Sebastian- Whose Inward Pinches Therefore Are Most Strong- Would Here Have Kill'd Your King, I Do Forgive Thee, Unnatural Though Thou Art.

In Winter's Tedious Nights Sit By The Fire With Good Old Folks, And Let Them Tell Thee Tales Of Woeful Ages, Long Ago Betid

How Soar Sweet Music Is, When Time Is Broke, And No Proportion Kept!