Men are April when they woo, December when they wed.
For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.
I wish you all the joy that you can wish.
Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
Right joyous are we to behold your face, Most worthy brother England; fairly met!
It is thyself, mine own self's better part; Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart; My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim, My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim.