So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies.

I do love nothing in the world so well as you- is not that strange?

Ay, but to die and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstrution and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.

Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania

But till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich she shall be, that's certain; wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her; fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, and excellent musician and her hair shall be of what colour it shall please God.

So we grew together like to a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet an union in partition, two lovely berries molded on one stem.

So curses all Eve's daughters of what complexion soever.