The summer's flower is to the summer sweet
Though to itself it only live and die

“That he's mad, 'tis true,'tis true 'tis pity,And pity 'tis, 'tis true—a foolish…”

“London as an actor, writer, and part owner of the playing company the”

“What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?”

“Poor naked wretches, whereso'er you are,That bide the pelting of this pitiless …”