Under loves heavy burden do I sink. --Romeo
While we lie tumbling in the hay.
A dream itself is but a shadow.
For naught so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give.
Music, moody food Of us that trade in love.
Tell them, that, to ease them of their griefs, Their fear of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, Their pangs of love, with other incident throes That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them.