He That Will Have A

By Heaven, I Do Love: And It Hath Taught Me To Rhyme, And To Be Mekancholy.

Why, All Delights Are Vain, But That Most Vain Which, With Pain Purchased, Doth Inherit Pain: As, Painfully To Pore Upon A Book, To Seek The Light Of Truth, Which Truth The While Doth Falsely Blind The Eyesight Of His Look.

Make Me A Willow Cabin At Your Gate, And Call Upon My Soul Within The House; Write Loyal Cantons Of Contemned Love And Sing Them Loud Even In The Dead Of Night.

Cleopatra: If It Be Love Indeed, Tell Me How Much. Antony: There's Beggary In The Love That Can Be Reckoned. Cleopatra: I'll Set A Bourne How Far To Be Belov'd. Antony: Then Must Thou Needs Find Out New Heaven, New Earth.

For The Poor Wren (the Most Diminutive Of Birds) Will Fight, Her Young Ones In Her Nest, Against The Owl.