He That Will Have A

But When I Came, Alas, To Wive, With Hey, Ho, The Wind And The Rain, By Swaggering Could I Never Thrive, For The Rain It Raineth Every Day.

That Strain Again! It Had A Dying Fall: O, It Came O'er My Ear Like The Sweet Sound That Breathes Upon A Bank Of Violets, Stealing And Giving Odour! Enough; No More: 'tis Not So Sweet As It Was Before.

All Impediments In Fancy's Course Are Motives Of More Fancy.

Love`s Reason`s Without Reason

Thy Words, I Grant Are Bigger, For I Wear Not, My Dagger In My Mouth.