Beauty Too Rich For Use, For Earth

All Love's Pleasure Shall Not Match Its Woe.

The Proverb Is Something Musty.

The Breaking Of So Great A Thing Should Make A Greater Crack: The Round World Should Have Shook Lions Into Civil Streets, And Citizens To Their Dens.

Every Fair From Fair Sometime Declines

Ere I Could Make Thee Open Thy White Hand, And Clap Thyself My Love; Then Didst Thou Utter, I Am Your's For Ever!