The Sight Of Lovers Feedeth Those In

If Thou Dost Marry, I'll Give Thee This Plague For Thy Dowry: Be Thou As Chaste As Ice, As Pure As Snow, Thou Shalt Not Escape Calumny.

Tis Now The Very Witching Time Of Night, When Churchyards Yawn And Hell Itself Breathes Out Contagion To This World.

The Heavenly-harness'd Team Begins His Golden Progress In The East.

You Are An Alchemist; Make Gold Of That.

Better Be With The Dead, Whom We To Gain Our Peace, Have Sent To Peace, Than On The Torture Of The Mind To Lie In Restless Ecstasy.