They Are Sick That Surfeit With Too

Art Thou Not, Fatal Vision, Sensible To Feelings As To Sight?

Good Words Are Better Than Bad Strokes.

The Eagle Suffers Little Birds To Sing.

The Iron Tongue Of Midnight Hath Told Twelve Lovers, To Bed; 'tis Almost Fairy Time. I Fear We Shall Outstep The Coming Morn As Much As We This Night Over-watch'd.

Your "if" Is The Only Peacemaker; Much Virtue In "if.