The moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.

“A madness most discreet,A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.”

“whats here a cup closed in my true loves hand poisin i see hath been his timele…”

“Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,Thy head, thy sovereign, one that…”

“Not all the water in the rough rude seaCan wash the balm from an anointed King;”