Every thing that grows / Holds in perfection but a little moment.
But I am constant as the Northern Star, Of whose true fixed and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament.
Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.
Sweetest nut hath sourest rind.
Out of this nettle - danger - we pluck this flower - safety.
What need the bridge much broader than the flood?