There Is No Sure Foundation

And When Love Speaks, The Voice Of All The Gods Makes Heaven Drowsy With The Harmony.

Let Me Be Boiled To Death With Melancholy.

Sin From Thy Lips? O Trespass Sweetly Urged! Give Me My Sin Again.

O For A Muse Of Fire, That Would Ascend The Brightest Heaven Of Invention, A Kingdom For A Stage, Princes To Act And Monarchs To Behold The Swelling Scene!

It Is The Purpose That Makes Strong The Vow; But Vows To Every Purpose Must Not Hold.