Filled with her love, may I be rather grown Mad with much heart, than idiot with none.

Filled with her love, may I be rather grown Mad with much heart, than idiot with none.

At most, the greatest persons are but great wens, and excrescences; men of wit and delightful conversation, but as morals for ornament, except they be so incorporated into the body of the world that they contribute something to the sustentation of the whole.

How great love is, presence best trial makes, But absence tries how long this love will be.

For love all love of other sights controls and makes one little room an everywhere

Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were

Christ beats his drum, but he does not press men; Christ is served with voluntaries.