Rachelle

Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garnish sun. O, I have bought the mansion of a love, But not possessed it. So tedious is this day As is the night before some festival to an impatient child that hath new robes And may not wear them.