And teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night.
Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.
Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye.
Farewell, fair cruelty.
No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine And made no deeper wounds?
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.