Nothing under heaven so strongly doth allure the sense of man, and all his mind possess, as beauty's love.

Change still doth reign, and keep the greater sway.

Woe to the man that first did teach the cursed steel to bite in his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit!

Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? - Epithalamion

Ah, fool! faint heart fair lady ne'er could win.

For easy things, that may be got at will, Most sorts of men do set but little store.

Greatest god below the sky.