Death-counterfeiting sleep.
The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.
Fill all thy bones with aches.
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence
But yet I'll make assurance double sure, and take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live.
I love thee, I love thee with a love that shall not die. Till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old.