I Do Begin To Have Bloody Thoughts.

How Wayward Is This Foolish Love That, Like A Testy Babe, Will Scratch The Nurse And Presently, All Humble, Kiss The Rod.

Oh, I Have Passed A Miserable Night, So Full Of Ugly Sights, Of Ghastly Dreams!

I'll Be At Charges For A Looking-glass And Entertain A Score Or Two Of Tailors To Study Fashions To Adorn My Body: Since I Am Crept In Favor With Myself, I Will Maintain It With Some Little Cost.

See Where She Comes Apparelled Like The Spring.

Do You Set Down Your Name In The Scroll Of Youth, That Are Written Down Old With All The Characters Of Age?