Where Love Is Great, The Littlest Doubts

He That Hath The Steerage Of My Course, Direct My Sail.

Men That Make Envy And Crooked Malice Nourishment, Dare Bite The Best.

Not From The Stars Do I My Judgement Pluck, And Yet Methinks I Have Astronomy. But Not To Tell Of Good Or Evil Luck, Of Plagues, Of Dearths, Or Season's Quality; Nor Can I Fortune To Brief Minutes Tell ... Or Say With Princes If It Shall Go Well.

You Are Thought Here To The Most Senseless And Fit Man For The Job.

In Black Ink My Love May Still Shine Bright.