Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.

A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.

I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear

And, if you love me, as I think you do, let's kiss and part, for we have much to do

Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this; for it will come to pass That every braggart will be found an ass.

And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.

Have I thought long to see this morning’s face, And doth it give me such a sight as this?