My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming; I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming The owner's tongue doth publish every where.

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, and clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter, I am your's for ever!

The plants look up to heaven, from whence they have their nourishment.

I am not merry, but I do beguile the thing I am by seeming otherwise.

Within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court.

By that sin fell the angels.

Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty.