Woah Is Me To Have Seen What

The Love Of Wicked Men Converts To Fear; That Fear To Hate, And Hate Turns One Or Both To Worthy Danger And Deserved Death.

Is There No Respect Of Place, Persons, Nor Time In You?

Farewell, Good Salisbury, And Good Luck Go With Thee!

I Have Heard Of Some Kind Of Men That Put Quarrels Purposely On Others, To Taste Their Valor.

Thine Eyes I Love, And They As Pitying Me, Knowing Thy Heart Torment Me With Disdain, Have Put On Black, And Loving Mourners Be, Looking With Pretty Ruth Upon My Pain.