In thy foul throat thou liest.
Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men?
Better a little chiding than a great deal of heartbreak.
What need the bridge much broader than the flood?
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
To persist in doing wrong extenuates not the wrong, but makes it much more heavy.