So smile the heavens upon this holy actThat after-hours with sorrow chide us not.
Amen. Amen. But...It is enough I may but call her mine.
The sweetest honeyIs loathsome in his own deliciousnessTherefore love moderately. Long love doth so.Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Here comes the lady. Oh, so light a footWill ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.A lover may bestride the gossamersThat idles in the wanton summer air,And yet not fall. So light is vanity.
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,Brags of his substance, not of ornament.They are but beggars that can count their worth.But my true love is grown to such excessI cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.
Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joyBe heaped like mine, and that thy skill be moreTo blazon it, then sweeten with thy breathThis neighbor air, and let rich music’s tongueUnfold the imagined happiness that bothReceive in either by this dear encounter.
Come, come with me, and we will make short work.For, by your leaves, you shall not stay aloneTill holy church incorporate two in one.