Why, I Can Smile And Murder Whiles

Hereafter, In A Better World Than This, I Shall Desire More Love And Knowledge Of You

Yet But Three Come One More. Two Of Both Kinds Make Up Four. Ere She Comes Curst And Sad. Cupid Is A Knavish Lad. Thus To Make Poor Females Mad.

I Myself Am Best When Least In Company.

Night's Candles Have Burned Out, And Jocund Day Stands Tiptoe On The Misty Mountaintops." Hope Tinged With Melancholy - Like Life.

Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer Day? Thou Art More Lovely And More Temperate... When In Eternal Lines To Time Thou Growst So Long As Men Can Breathe Or Eyes Can See, So Long Lives This, And This Gives Life To Thee.