Heaven, envious of our joys, is waxen pale;
And when we whisper, then the stars fall down
To be partakers of our honey talk.

(Dido, Queen of Carthage 4.4.52-54)

You stars that reigned at my nativity, / Whose influence hath allotted death and hell, / Now draw up Faustus, like a foggy mist, / Into the entrails of yon labouring cloud.

Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars

When all the world dissolves, / And every creature shall be purified, / All place shall be hell that is not heaven.

Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss! Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies! Come Helen, come give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven be in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.

Love is a golden bubble full of dreams,
That waking breaks, and fills us with extremes.

---From “Hero and Leander, Sestiad III