Rough Winds Do Shake The

Out Of Her Favour, Where I Am In Love.

Welcome Ever Smiles, And Farewell Goes Out Sighing.

Our Jovial Star Reigned At His Birth.

Would It Not Grieve A Woman To Be Over-mastered By A Piece Of Valiant Dust? To Make An Account Of Her Life To A Clod Of Wayward Marle?

The Day Shall Not Be Up So Soon As I, To Try The Fair Adventure Of Tomorrow.