As Flies To Wanton Boys, Are We

What: Is The Jay More Precious Than The Lark Because His Feathers Are More Beautiful?

The Art Of Our Necessities Is Strange That Can Make Vile Things Precious.

Full Many A Glorious Morn I Have Seen Flatter The Mountain-tops With Sovereign Eye, Kissing With Golden Face The Meadows Green, Gilding Pale Streams With Heavenly Alchemy.

All Thy Vexations Were But My Trials Of Thy Love, And Thou Hast Strangely Stood The Test; Here, Afore Heaven, I Ratify This My Rich Gift.

The Pow'r That I Have On You Is To Spare You; The Malice Towards You To Forgive You.