Griefs Assured Are Felt Before

And That One Hunting, Which The Devil Design'd For One Fair Female, Lost Him Half The Kind.

To Die Is Landing On Some Distant Shore.

Thou Tyrant, Tyrant Jealousy, Thou Tyrant Of The Mind!

Love And Time With Reverence Use, Treat Them Like A Parting Friend: Nor The Golden Gifts Refuse Which In Youth Sincere They Send: For Each Year Their Price Is More, And They Less Simple Than Before.

I Am Reading Jonson's Verses To The Memory Of Shakespeare; An Insolent, Sparing, And Invidious Panegyric.