Summer's Lease Hath All Too

I Will Speak Daggers To Her, But Use None.

This Is The Very Ecstasy Of Love, Whose Violent Property Ordoes Itself And Leads The Will To Desperate Undertakings.

Soft Pity Enters An Iron Gate.

Our Holy Lives Must Win A New World's Crown.

O Fortune, Fortune! All Men Call Thee Fickle.