There is nothing that God hath established in a constant course of nature, and which therefore is done every day, but would seem a Miracle, and exercise our admiration, if it were done but once.

As soon as there was two there was pride.

What if this present were the world's last night?

Friends are ourselves.

And new philosophy calls all in doubt, The element of fire is quite put out; The sun is lost, and the earth, and no man's wit Can well direct him where to look for it. And freely men confess that this world's spent, When in the planets, and the firmament They seek so many new; then see that this Is crumbled out again to his atomies. 'Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone; All just supply, and all relation: Prince, subject, Father, Son, are things forgot.

O how feeble is man's power, that if good fortune fall, cannot add another hour, nor a lost hour recall!

I long to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the god of love was born.