I am, gay creature, With pardon of your deities, a mushroom On whom the dew of heaven drops now and then.

Tempt not the stars, young man, thou canst not play With the severity of fate.

Green indiscretion, flattery of greatness, Rawness of judgement, wilfulness in folly, Thoughts vagrant as the wind, and as uncertain.

Fly hence, shadows, that do keep, Watchful sorrows, charmed in sleep.

I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God a…

A bard here dwelt, more fat than bard beseems, Who, void of envy, guile, and lust of gain, On virtue still, and nature's pleasing themes, Poured forth his unpr…

This type of man who is devoted to the study of wisdom is always most unlucky in everything, and particularly when it comes to procreating children; I imagine …