England Is Safe, If True Within Itself.

Beshrew That Heart That Makes My Heart To Groan For That Deep Wound It Gives My Friend And Me; Is't Not Enough To Torture Me Alone, But Slave To Slavery My Sweet'st Friend Must Be?

My Age Is As A Lusty Winter, Frosty But Kindly.

I Go, I Go, Look How I Go, Swifter Than An Arrow From A Bow

The Pleasant'st Angling Is To See The Fish Cut With Her Golden Oars The Silver Stream And Greedily Devour The Treacherous Bait.

Out, Out, Brief Candle! Life's But A Walking Shadow.