By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, And that no woman has, nor never none Shall mistress be of it save I alone.

The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.

Oh, God! I have an ill-divining soul!

The sense of death is most in apprehension, And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.

If [God] send me no husband, for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening.

Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's Day, All in the morn betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your valentine.

Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.