I Have Very Poor And

All Love's Pleasure Shall Not Match Its Woe.

Justice Always Whirls In Equal Measure.

Whatever Praises Itself But In The Deed, Devours The Deed In The Praise.

Fear Not, Cesario, Take Thy Fortunes Up. Be That Thou Know'st Thou Art And Then Thou Art As Great As That Thou Fear'st.

Come Away, Come Away, Death, And In Sad Cypress Let Me Be Laid; Fly Away, Fly Away, Breath, I Am Slain By A Fair Cruel Maid. My Shroud Of White Stuck All With Yew, O Prepare It! My Part Of Death No One So True Did Share It. Not A Flower, Not A Flower Sweet, On My Black Coffin Let There Be Strewn: Not A Friend, Not A Friend Greet My Poor Corpse, Where My Bones Shall Be Thrown. A Thousand Thousand Sighs To Save, Lay Me O Where Sad True Lover Never Find My Grave, To Weep There!