Sweet Recreation Barred, What Doth

Art Thou Not, Fatal Vision, Sensible To Feelings As To Sight?

A Young Woman In Love Always Looks Like Patience On A Monument Smiling At Grief

Speak The Speech, I Pray You, As I Pronounc'd It To You, Trippingly On The Tongue.

Two Households, Both Alike In Dignity In Fair Verona, Where We Lay Our Scene From Ancient Grudge Break To New Mutiny Where Civil Blood Makes Civil Hands Unclean. From Forth The Fatal Loins Of These Two Foes A Pair Of Star-cross'd Lovers Take Their Life Whose Misadventured Piteous Overthrows Do With Their Death Bury Their Parents' Strife.

If Ever Thou Shalt Love, In The Sweet Pangs Of It Remember Me; For Such As I Am All True Lovers Are, Unstaid And Skittish In All Motions Else Save In The Constant Image Of The Creature That Is Beloved.