Thou hast nor youth nor age But as it were an after dinner sleep Dreaming of both.
For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.
My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy.
Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.
Tis a happy thing To be the father unto many sons.
Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou ow'st the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Here's three on's are sophisticated. Thou art the thing itself; unaccommodated man is no more than such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.