“Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.”

“Is it thy will, thy image should keep openMy heavy eyelids to the weary night?Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from theeSo far from home into my deeds to pry,To find out shames and idle hours in me,The scope and tenor of thy jealousy?O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great:It is my love that keeps mine eye awake:Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,To play the watchman ever for thy sake:For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,From me far off, with others all too near.”

“If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,By self-example mayst thou be denied.”

“Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thoughtAs doth eternity...”

“Thou canst not speak of thou dost not feel.”

“Biscuits, biscuits: wherefore art thou biscuits? Hath mine beloved hidden thou once more from mine eyes? Alas, mine coffee cries out. Lo!”