I can express no kinder sign of love, than this kind kiss.

O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?

I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er.

For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy

Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house; Write loyal cantons of contemned love And sing them loud even in the dead of night.

Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.

Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.