But Since The Affairs Of Men Rests

A Friend Should Bear His Friend's Infirmities.

All The Contagion Of The South Light On You, You Shames Of Rome! You Herd Of--boils And Plagues Plaster You O'er; That You May Be Abhorr'd Further Than Seen, And One Infect Another Against The Wind A Mile!

In Scorn Of Nature, Art Gave Lifeless Life.

Stars, Hide Your Fires; Let Not Light See My Black And Deep Desires.

Not Proud You Have, But Thankful That You Have. Proud Can I Never Be Of What I Hate, But Thankful Even For Hate That Is Meant Love.