My Thoughts Are Whirled Like

I Am A Great Eater Of Beef, And I Believe That Does Harm To My Wit.

Now Old Desire Doth In His Deathbed Lie, And Young Affection Gapes To Be His Heir; That Fair For Which Love Groan'd For And Would Die, With Tender Juliet Match'd, Is Now Not Fair.

Love Will Not Be Spurred To What It Loathes

Eye Of Newt, And Toe Of Frog, Wool Of Bat, And Tongue Of Dog, Adder's Fork, And Blind-worm's Sting, Lizard's Leg, And Owlet's Wing, For A Charm Of Powerful Trouble, Like A Hell-broth Boil And Bubble.

Light, Seeking Light, Doth Light Of Light Beguile