Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.

The old order changeth yielding place to new And God fulfills himself in many ways Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me I have lived my life and that which I have done May he within himself make pure but thou If thou shouldst never see my face again Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.

I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul

Trust me not at all, or all in all.

Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand the downward slope to death.

She sleeps: her breathings are not heard In palace chambers far apart. The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd That lie upon her charmed heart She sleeps: on either hand upswells The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest: She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells A perfect form in perfect rest.

Rain, rain, and sun! A rainbow in the sky!