When griping grief the heart doth wound, and doleful dumps the mind opresses, then music, with her silver sound, with speedy help doth lend redress.
One whom the music of his own vain tongue doth ravish like enchanting harmony.
Give thanks for what you are today and go on fighting for what you gone be tomorrow
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to Heaven.
Your "if" is the only peacemaker; much virtue in "if.
So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend: thy love ne'er alter, till they sweet life end