Men's Vows Are Women's Traitors

Look, What Envious Streaks Do Lace The Severing Clouds In Yonder East! Night's Candles Are Burnt Out, And Jocund Day Stands Tip-toe On The Misty Mountain-tops.

Princes Have But Their Titles For Their Glories, An Outward Honor For An Inward Toil; And, For Unfelt Imaginations, They Often Feel A World Of Restless Cares.

My Love Is Deep; The More I Give To Thee, The More I Have, Both Are Infinite.

There Is A History In All Men's Lives.

The Urging Of That Word, Judgment, Hath Bred A Kind Of Remorse In Me.