Full Oft We See Cold Wisdom Waiting

Then Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty.

Ideas Are The Very Coinage Of Your Brain.

So Our Virtues Lie In The Interpretation Of The Time

A Little Fire Is Quickly Trodden Out, Which, Being Suffer'd, Rivers Cannot Quench.

[s]ince Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit, And Tediousness The Limbs And Outward Flourishes, I Will Be Brief.