Do You Not Know I Am A

For Love, Thou Know'st, Is Full Of Jealousy

When My Love Swears That She Is Made Of Truth, I Do Believe Her, Though I Know She Lies.

This Goodly Frame, The Earth, Seems To Me A Sterile Promontory.

How Sometimes Nature Will Betray Its Folly, Its Tenderness, And Make Itself A Pastime To Harder Bosoms!

The Means That Heaven Yields Must Be Embraced, And Not Neglected; Else, If Heaven Would, And We Will Not Heaven's Offer, We Refuse The Proffered Means Of Succor And Redress.