Flattery, the dangerous nurse of vice.
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night, Brother to Death, in silent darkness born; Relive my languish, and restore the light.
Sacred religion! mother of form and fear.
Love is a sickness full of woes, all remedies refusing.
The stars that have most glory have no rest.
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.