We come to know best what men are, in their worse jeopardizes.

Beauty, sweet love, is like the morning dew, Whose short refresh upon tender green, Cheers for a time, but till the sun doth show And straight is gone, as it had never been.

We come to know best what men are, in their worse jeopardizes.

Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night, Brother to Death, in silent darkness born; Relive my languish, and restore the light.

Flattery, the dangerous nurse of vice.

The stars that have most glory have no rest.

Custom, that is before all law; Nature, that is above all art.