Then would thy tongue have boldly answered me,
And said, Man hath his life; that it must end
Condemns it not for nought. Are rivers salt
Because they travel to the bitter sea?
Is the day dark because the gorgeous west
Must fade in gloom, when the ungazeable sun
Is fallen beneath the waves? Or hath the spring
No charm in her pavilions, are her floors
Not starred, for that we see her birth is slow
Of niggard winter, and her blossoms smirched