O Polished Perturbation! Golden Care! That Keep'st

She Is Mine Own, And I As Rich In Having Such A Jewel As Twenty Seas, If All Their Sand Were Pearl, The Water Nectar, And The Rocks Pure Gold.

My Meaning In Saying He Is A Good Man, Is To Have You Understand Me That He Is Sufficient.

O, Grief Hath Changed Me Since You Saw Me Last, And Careful Hours With Time's Deformed Hand Have Written Strange Defeatures In My Face. But Tell Me Yet, Dost Thou Not Know My Voice?

Plain And Not Honest Is Too Harsh A Style.

This Blessèd Plot, This Earth, This Realm, This England This Nurse, This Teeming Womb Of Royal Kings, . . . This Land Of Such Dear Souls, This Dear Dear Land.