What power is it which mounts my love so high,
That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye?

Well, my companion friends,
If this but answer to my just belief,
I'll well remember you.

Is it thy will thy image should keep open My heavy eyelids to the weary night?

I’ll run away till I am bigger, but then I’ll fight.

you must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.

we were better parch in Afric sun Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes

God in thy good cause make thee prosperous!

Alas, the way is wearisome and long.

alas, Where is thy head? where's that? Ay me! where's that?

How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?