O, let my books be then the eloquence and dumb presages of my speaking breast.

He that is strucken blind can not forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.

I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip

By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy The tongues of soothers! but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.

To be direct and honest is not safe.

My lord, they say five moons were seen to-night-- Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl about The other four in wondrous motion.

Full many a glorious morn I have seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy.