He hath persecuted time with hope; and finds no other advantage in the process but only the losing of hope by time.
When thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast none, remember they friends: get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee: so, farewell.
Our remedies often in ourselves do lie,
Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky
Gives us free scope; only doth backward pull
Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull.
By our remembrances of days foregone,
Such were our faults: — Or then our faults seemed none.
Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all
That happiness in prime can happy call;
Thou this to hazard needs must intimate
Skill infinite; or monstrous desperate.
A young man married is a man that’s marr’d.
Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?
And on your finger, in the night, I’ll put
Another ring; that what in time proceeds
May token to the future our past deeds.
Yet, I pray you:
But with the word the time will bring on summer,
When briars shall have leaves as well as thorns,
And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
Our wagon is prepar’d, and time revives us:
All’s well that ends well: still the fine’s the crown:
Whate’er the course, the end is the renown.