If one good deed in all my life I did, I do repent it from my very soul.
My love is thaw'd; Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was
I am not of that feather, to shake off my friend when he must need me
I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.
So wise so young, they say, do never live long.
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.