He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a fair divided excellence, Whose fullness of perfection lies in him.

Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity.

Being your slave what should I do but tend, Upon the hours, and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend; Nor services to do till you require.

Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.

Civil dissension is a viperous worm That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.

Cursed be he that moves my bones.

Then others for breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.