A ministering angel shall my sister be.
Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies
I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
It is a good divine that follows his own instructions.
To lapse in fulness Is sorer than to lie for need, and falsehood Is worse in kings than beggars.
Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun, and with him rise weeping.