How Much Better Is It To Weep

Nature Does Require Her Times Of Preservation.

Why Should You Think That I Should Woo In Scorn? Scorn And Derision Never Come In Tears: Look, When I Vow, I Weep; And Vows So Born, In Their Nativity All Truth Appears. How Can These Things In Me Seem Scorn To You, Bearing The Badge Of Faith, To Prove Them True?

Then Let Thy Love Be Younger Than Thyself, Or Thy Affection Cannot Hold The Bent.

But, Soft! What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks? It Is The East, And Juliet Is The Sun.

Thrice Is He Arm'd That Hath His Quarrel Just, And He But Naked, Though Lock'd Up In Steel, Whose Conscience With Injustice Is Corrupted.