When Devils Will The Blackest Sins Put

Do All Men Kill The Things They Do Not Love?

That We Would Do We Should Do When We Would, For This 'would' Changes, And Hath Abatements And Delays As Many As There Are Tongues, Are Hands, Are Accidents, And Then This 'should' Is Like A Spendthrift Sigh, That Hurts By Easing.

And This, Our Life, Exempt From Public Haunt, Finds Tongues In Trees, Books In The Running Brooks, Sermons In Stones, And Good In Everything.

Is He On His Horse? O Happy Horse, To Bear The Weight Of Antony!

You Are My True And Honourable Wife; As Dear To Me As The Ruddy Drops That Visit My Sad Heart.