Now entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe.

As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.

Grief makes one hour ten.

The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.

Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief.

Having nothing, nothing can he lose.

My chastity's the jewel of our house, bequeathed down from many ancestors.