Love Is A Spirit All Compact Of

The Loyalty, Well Held To Fools, Does Make Our Faith Mere Folly.

Sir, In My Heart There Was A Kind Of Fighting That Would Not Let Me Sleep.

That Is My Home Of Love: If I Have Ranged, Like Him That Travels I Return Again, Just To The Time, Not With The Time Exchanged.

Her Blood Is Settled, And Her Joints Are Stiff; Life And These Lips Have Long Been Separated: Death Lies On Her Like An Untimely Frost Upon The Sweetest Flower Of All The Field.

Press Not A Falling Man Too Far; 'tis Virtue: His Faults Lie Open To The Laws; Let Them, Not You, Correct Him.