Hopeless And Helpless Doth Egeon

Yet Do I Fear Thy Nature; It Is Too Full O' The Milk Of Human Kindness.

The Summer's Flow'r Is To The Summer Sweet, Though To Itself It Only Live And Die' But If That Flow'r With Base Infection Meet, The Basest Weed Outbraves His Dignity: For Sweetest Things Turn Sourest By Their Deeds; Lilies That Fester Smell Far Worse Than Weeds.

You Know That Love Will Creep In Service Where It Cannot Go.

Such An Act That Blurs The Grace And Blush Of Modesty; Calls Virtue Hypocrite; Takes Off The Rose From The Fair Forehead Of An Innocent Love, And Sets A Blister There; Makes Marriage Vows As False As Dicers' Oaths.

Superfluity Comes Sooner By White Hairs, But Competency Lives Longer.