A college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humor. Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram?

Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine.

Your "if" is the only peacemaker; much virtue in "if.

God mark thee to His grace! Thou was the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed. And might I live to see thee married once, I have my wish.

I would not wish any companion in the world but you.

This music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air: thence I have follow’d it.

Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, where manners ne'er were preached.