Ingratitude is monstrous.
With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out
Thyself shall see the act; For, as thou urgest justice, be assured Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir'st.
Virtue and genuine graces in themselves speak what no words can utter.
How poor are they that have have not patients.
At Christmas, I no more desire a rose.