They told me I was everything. 'Tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.
There is plenty of time to sleep in the grave
O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse.
My love admits no qualifying dross
The tempter or the tempted, who sins most? Ha! Not she: nor doth she tempt: but it is I That, lying by the violet in the sun, Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season.
Have patience, and endure