Love is a circle that doth restless move in the same sweet eternity of love.

Here a pretty Baby lies Sung asleep with Lullabies: Pray be silent, and not stirre The easie earth that covers her.

Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may.

It is the end that crowns us, not the fight.

O thou, the drink of gods and angels! Wine

When a daffadill I see, Hanging down his head towards me, Guess I may, what I must be: First, I shall decline my head; Secondly, I shall be dead: Lastly, safely buryed.

The first act's doubtful, but we say, it is the last commends the play.