I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously; for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth And send to darkness all that stop me.

O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?

While we lie tumbling in the hay.

Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain.

Now entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole.