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 Say, we must part (sweet mercy bless Us both i' th' sea, camp, wilderness), Can we so far Stray to become less circular Than we are now? No, no, that self-same heart, that vow Which made us one, shall ne'er undo, Or ravel so to make us two.

Live in thy peace; as for myself, When I am bruised on the shelf Of time, and show My locks behung with frost and snow; When with the rheum, The cough, the ptisick, I consume Unto an almost nothing; then The ages fled I'll call again,

And with a tear compare these last Lame and bad times with those are past; While Baucis by, My old lean wife, shall kiss it dry. And so we'll sit By th' fire, foretelling snow and sleet, And weather by our aches, grown Now old enough to be our own

True calendars, as puss's ear Washed o'er's, to tell what change is near: