For I Am Proverbed With A Grandsire

So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy That It Alone Is High Fantastical.

Tis Ever Common That Men Are Merriest When They Are From Home.

Tis Gold Which Buys Admittance--oft It Doth--yea, And Makes Diana's Rangers False Themselves, Yield Up This Deer To Th' Stand O' Th' Stealer: And 'tis Gold Which Makes The True Man Kill'd And Saves The Thief, Nay, Sometimes Hangs Both Thief And True Man.

Wherefore Was I To This Keen Mockery Born? When At Your Hands Did I Deserve This Scorn? Is't Not Enough, Is't Not Enough, Young Man, That I Did Never, No, Nor Never Can, Deserve A Sweet Look From Demetrius' Eye, But You Must Flout My Insufficiency?

It Is My Soul That Calls Upon My Name; How Silver-sweet Sound Lovers' Tongues By Night, Like Softest Music To Attending Ears! -romeo