They say best men are molded out of faults, And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad

What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? Young son, it argues a distemper'd head So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed: Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign.

My lord, they say five moons were seen to-night-- Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl about The other four in wondrous motion.

We came into the world like brother and brother, And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.

Past all shame, so past all truth.

The arms are fair, When the intent of bearing them is just.

O heaven! that one might read the book of fate, and see the revolution of the times.