Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven, Before, behind thee, and on every hand, Enwheel thee round!

He does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.

Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard, and many a time Th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear; for several virtues Have I liked several women; never any With so full soul but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed, And put it to the foil.

O, then, what graces in my love do dwell That he hath turned a heaven unto a hell!

Here comes one with a paper: God give him grace to groan!

He does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural