Melancholy Is The Nurse Of Frenzy.

There's Rosemary, That's For Remembrance; Pray You, Love, Remember: And There Is Pansies, That's For Thoughts. There's Fennel For You, And Columbines: — There 's Rue For You; And Here's Some For Me: — We May Call It, Herb Of Grace O'sundays: — You May Wear Your Rue With A Difference. — There's A Daisy: — I Would Give You Some Violets; But They Withered All, When My Father Died: — They Say, He Made A Good End.

I Pardon Him, As God Shall Pardon Me.

Your Bait Of Falsehood Takes This Carp Of Truth.

It Hurts Not The Tongue To Give Fair Words.

I Cannot, Nor I Will Not Hold Me Still; My Tongue, Though Not My Heart, Shall Have His Will.