There's some ill planet reigns: I must be patient till the heavens look With an aspect more favourable.

The expedition of my violent love outrun the pauser, reason.

If all the year were playing holidays; To sport would be as tedious as to work.

I know a place where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.

Men are April when they woo, December when they wed.

The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good.

Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.