There was a star danced, and under that was I born.
Thou ominous and fearful owl of death.
The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be changed: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies.
Making night hideous.
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.
Let us not burden our remembrances with a heaviness that's gone.