And To The English Court Assemble Now,

Be To Yourself As You Would To Your Friend.

Discomfort Guides My Tongue And Bids Me Speak Of Nothing But Despair.

Chewing The Food Of Sweet And Bitter Fancy.

The Hand That Hath Made You Fair Hath Made You Good.

Death, That Hath Suck'd The Honey Of Thy Breath Hath Had No Power Yet Upon Thy Beauty.