So distribution should undo excess, and each man have enough.

Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear

To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks, with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth

Men at sometime are the masters of their fate.

I’ll look to like, if looking liking move; But no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English.

The wheel is come full circle.