Was this the face that launchd a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss! Her lips suck forth my soul:7 see, where it flies!
Note 2. Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just, And he but naked, though locked up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. William Shakespeare: Henry VI. act iii. sc. 2. [back]
Note 4. To shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sings madrigals; There will we make our peds of roses, And a thousand fragrant posies. William Shakespeare: Merry Wives of Windsor, act iii. sc. i. (Sung by Evans). [back]
Note 5. Be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.Matthew x. 16. [back]