How Use Doth Breed A

What Freezings I Have Felt, What Dark Days Seen, What Old December's Bareness Everywhere!

This Is The Very Ecstasy Of Love.

Hang There Like Fruit, My Soul, Till The Tree Die!

We Wound Our Modesty And Make Foul The Clearness Of Our Deservings, When Of Ourselves We Publish Them.

Look On Beauty, And You Shall See 'tis Purchased By The Weight; Which Therein Works A Miracle In Nature, Making Them Lightest That Wear Most Of It: So Are Those Crisped Snaky Golden Locks Which Make Such Wanton Gambols With The Wind Upon Supposed Fairness, Often Known To Be The Dowry Of A Second Head, The Skull That Bred Them In The Sepulchre.