texts: As the custom is, in all her best array, bear her to church.
labels: And all this day an unaccustomed spirit lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. I dreampt my lady came and found me dead and breathed such life with kisses in my lips that I revived and was an emperor. Ah me, how sweet is love itself possessed when but love's shadow's are so rich in joy. News from Verona. How now, Balthasar?! Dost thou not bring me letters from the Priest? How doth my lady? Is my Father well? How doth my lady Juliet? For nothing can be ill if she be well.