Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love..

Oh dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers
I have not art to reckon my groans but that
I love thee best, O my best, believe it. Adieu.
'Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst
this machine is to him,
-Hamlet