The Eagle Suffers Little Birds To Sing.

How Soar Sweet Music Is, When Time Is Broke, And No Proportion Kept!

I Must Be Cruel Only To Be Kind; Thus Bad Begins, And Worse Remains Behind.

Shorten My Days Thou Canst With Sullen Sorrow, And Pluck Nights From Me, But Not Lend A Morrow; Thou Canst Help Time To Furrow Me With Age, But Stop No Wrinkle In His Pilgrimage.

You Speak An Infinite Deal Of Nothing.

Captain Of Our Fairy Band, Helena Is Here At Hand, And The Youth, Mistook By Me, Pleading For A Lover's Fee. Shall We Their Fond Pageant See? Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be!