Gently to hear, kindly to judge.

Would I were in an alehouse in London.

O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

I have been studying how I may compare This prison where I live unto the world; And, for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.

There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune.

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought.

To you your father should be as a god.