Every man has a bag hanging before him, in which he puts his neighbour's faults, and another behind him in which he stows his own.

Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!

This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet

There's daggers in men's smiles.

O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! And yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all hooping.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony