It is the cowish terror of his spirit that dares not undertake; he'll not feel wrongs which tie him to an answer.

These earthly godfathers of Heaven's lights, that give a name to every fixed star, have no more profit of their shining nights than those that walk and know not what they are.

It warms the very sickness in my heart, That I shall live and tell him to his teeth, "Thus diddest thou;"

Full many a glorious morn I have seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy.

Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.

Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.

Faster than spring-time showers comes thought on thought.