I have drunk and seen the spider.

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. -Sonnet 73

Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. O these deliberate fools!

A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm

There lives within the very flame of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it.

No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine And made no deeper wounds?

But most it is presumption in us when the help of heaven we count the act of men.