For some must watch, while some must sleep So runs the world away
Murder most foul, as in the best it it; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
Oh, how this spring of love resembleth, The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all beauty of the Sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep.
They love least that let men know their loves.
While thou livest keep a good tongue in thy head.