Beauty Too Rich For Use, For Earth

I Would Give All Of My Fame For A Pot Of Ale And Safety.

Your Bait Of Falsehood Takes This Carp Of Truth, And Thus Do We Of Wisdom And Of Reach, With Windlasses And With Assays Of Bias, By Indirections Find Directions Out.

For Brutus Is An Honourable Man; So Are They All, All Honourable Men.

What Made Me Love Thee? Let That Persuade Thee, There's Something Extraordinary In Thee

Beshrew That Heart That Makes My Heart To Groan For That Deep Wound It Gives My Friend And Me; Is't Not Enough To Torture Me Alone, But Slave To Slavery My Sweet'st Friend Must Be?