The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart-see, they bark at me.
Courage and comfort, all shall yet go well
Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!
The setting sun, and the music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in rememberance more than long things past.
There was a star danced, and under that was I born.
You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him!