Sorrow, like a heavy ringing bell, once set on ringing, with its own weight goes; then little strength rings out the doleful knell.

She's gone. I am abused, and my relief must be to loathe her.

Cheerily to sea; the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France

Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.

Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.

Absence from those we love is self from self - a deadly banishment.

Love is like a child, That longs for everything it can come by