The Man That Hath No Music In

Then Must You Speak Of One That Loved Not Wisely But Too Well, Of One Not Easily Jealous But, Being Wrought, Perplexed In The Extreme; Of One Whose Hand, Like The Base Indian, Threw A Pearl Away Richer Than All His Tribe; Of One Whose Subdued Eyes, Albeit Unused To The Melting Mood, Drop Tears As Fast As The Arabian Trees Their Medicinable Gum. Set You Down This, And Say Besides That In Aleppo Once, Where A Malignant And A Turbaned Turk Beat A Venetian And Traduced The State, I Took By Th' Throat The Circumcised Dog And Smote Him Thus.

For Many Men That Stumble At The Threshold Are Well Foretold That Danger Lurks Within.

Words, Words, Mere Words, No Matter From The Heart.

Teach Not Thy Lip Such Scorn, For It Was Made For Kissing, Lady, Not For Such Contempt.

Man, Proud Man, Drest In A Little Brief Authority, Most Ignorant Of What He's Most Assured.