O for a horse with wings!
Angels and ministers of grace defend us.
Here was a Caesar! When comes such another?
My glass shall not persuade me I am old, So long as youth and thou are of one date; But when in thee time's furrows I behold, Then look I death my days should expiate.
The trust I have is in mine innocence, and therefore am I bold and resolute.
For sorrow ends not, when it seemeth done.