Nor Age So Eat Up My Invention.

Your Gentleness Shall Force More Than Your Force Move Us To Gentleness.

Stars, Hide Your Fires; Let Not Light See My Black And Deep Desires.

Nature Does Require Her Time Of Preservation, Which Perforce, I Her Frail Son Amongst My Brethren Mortal, Must Give My Attendance To.

Comets Importing Change Of Times And States, Brandish Your Crystal Tresses In The Sky And With Them Scourge The Bad Revolting Stars.

Pause Awhile, And Let My Counsel Sway You.