Every fair from fair sometime declines
Of chastity, the ornaments are chaste.
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.
O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse.
Thyself shall see the act; For, as thou urgest justice, be assured Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir'st.