How Hard It Is To

Though I Am Not Naturally Honest, I Am Sometimes So By Chance.

Thy Head Is As Full Of Quarrels As An Egg Is Full Of Meat, And Yet Thy Head Hath Been Beaten As Addle As An Egg For Quarrelling.

It Was Always Yet The Trick Of Our English Nation, If They Have A Good Thing, To Make It Too Common.

Since My Dear Soul Was Mistress Of Her Choice And Could Of Men Distinguish Her Election, Sh'ath Sealed Thee For Herself.

O, Then I See Queen Mab Hath Been With You. . . . She Is The Fairies’ Midwife, And She Comes In Shape No Bigger Than An Agate Stone On The Forefinger Of An Alderman, Drawn With A Team Of Little Atomi Athwart Men’s Noses As They Lie Asleep.