Bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible.
Love is begun by time and time qualifies the spark and fire of it.
Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion. I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear
Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.
Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, Now am I fled; My soul is in the sky: Tongue, lose thy light; Moon take thy flight. Now die, die, die, die, die.