But she makes hungry Where she most satisfies.

...lest too light winning make the prize light.

What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his doublet and hose and leaves off his wit!

If the masses can love without knowing why, they also hate without much foundation.

Every why has a wherefore.

But whate'er you are That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; If you have ever looked on better days, If ever been where bells knoll'd to church, If ever sat at any good man's feast, If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear, And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, Let gentleness my strong enforcement be. . . .

It is not night when I do see your face.