Shall I, wasting in dispaire, Dye because a womans faire? Or make pale my cheeks with care Cause anothers rosie are? Be shee fairer than the day, Or the flowry meads in May; If she be not so to me, What care I how faire shee be? Geo. Wither.From the Mistresse of Philarete, 3 Percy Reliques, Page 245.
To die,to sleep, No more; and, by a sleep, to say we end The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to,tis a consummation Devoutly to be wishd. Shakespeare.Hamlet, Act III. Scene 1. (His Soliloquy on Life and Death.)
To die,to sleep, To sleep! perchance to dream;ay, theres the rub: For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause. Shakespeare.Hamlet, Act III. Scene 1. (The Soliloquy continued.) See Whips.