“True and false fears let us refrain, Let us love nobly, and live, and add again Years and years unto years, till we attain To write threescore: this is the second of our reign.”

“Let us love nobly, and live, and add again Years and years unto years, till we attain To write threescore: this is the second of our reignLove was as subtly catched, as a disease; But being got it is a treasure sweet, Which to defend is harder than to get: And ought not be profaned on either part, For though 'tis got by chance,'tis kept by art”

“The Good-MorrowI wonder by my troth, what thou, and IDid, till we lov'd? Were we not wean'd till then?But suck'd on countrey pleasures, childishly?Or snorted we in the seaven sleepers den?T'was so; But this, all pleasures fancies bee.If ever any beauty I did see,Which I desir'd, and got, 'twas but a dreame of thee.And now good morrow to our waking soules,Which watch not one another out of feare;For love, all love of other sights controules,And makes one little roome, an every where.Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,Let Maps to other, worlds on worlds have showne,Let us possesse one world; each hath one, and is one.My face in thine eye, thine in mine appeares,And true plaine hearts doe in the faces rest,Where can we finde two better hemisphearesWithout sharpe North, without declining West?What ever dyes, was not mixed equally;If our two loves be one, or, thou and ILove so alike, that none doe slacken, none can die.”

“SongGo, and catch a falling star,Get with child a mandrake root,Tell me, where all past years are,Or who cleft the Devil’s foot,Teach me to hear mermaids singing,Or to keep off envy’s stinging,And findWhat windServes to advance an honest mind.If thou be’est born to strange sights,Things invisible to see,Ride ten thousand days and nights,Till age snow white hairs on thee,Thou, when thou return’st, wilt tell meAll strange wonders that befell thee,And swearNowhereLives a woman true, and fair.If thou find’st one, let me know,Such a pilgrimage were sweet,Yet do not, I would not go,Though at next door we might meet,Though she were true when you met her,And last, till you write your letter,Yet sheWill beFalse, ere I come, to two, or three.”

“Then love is sin, and let me sinful be.”

“As virtuous men pass mildly awayAnd whisper to their souls, to goe,While some of their friends doe say,The breath goes now, and some say, no:So let us melt, and make no noise...”

“Mark but this flea, and mark in this, How little that which thou deniest me is; Me it sucked first, and now sucks thee, And in this flea our two bloods mingled be; Thou know’st that this cannot be said A sin, or shame, or loss of maidenhead, Yet this enjoys before it woo, And pampered swells with one blood made of two, And this, alas, is more than we would do. Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare, Where we almost, nay more than married are. This flea is you and I, and this Our mariage bed and mariage temple is; Though parents grudge, and you, we are met, And cloisterd in these living walls of jet. Though use make you apt to kill me, Let not to that, self-murder added be, And sacrilege, three sins in killing three. Cruel and sudden, hast thou since Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence? Wherein could this flea guilty be, Except in that drop which it sucked from thee? Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now; ’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be: Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me, Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.”