A Sad Tale's Best For Winter. I

There Is No Slander In An Allowed Fool, Though He Do Nothing But Rail.

I Loved Ophelia. Forty Thousand Brothers Could Not, With All Their Quantity Of Love, Make Up My Sum.

Do Not, As Some Ungracious Pastors Do, Show Me The Steep And Thorny Way To Heaven; Whilst, Like A Puff'd And Reckless Libertine, Himself The Primrose Path Of Dalliance Treads And Recks Not His Own Read.

Ask Me No Reason Why I Love You; For Though Love Use Reason For His Physician, He Admits Him Not For His Counsellor.

I Shall Despair. There Is No Creature Loves Me; And If I Die No Soul Will Pity Me: And Wherefore Should They, Since That I Myself Find In Myself No Pity To Myself?