Doubt thou the stars are fire,
Doubt that the sun doth move,
Doubt truth to be a liar,
But never doubt I love.
O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers. I have not art to reckon my groans, but that I love thee best, oh, most best, believe it. Adieu.
Thine evermore, most dear lady,
whilst this machine is to him,
Hamlet.
–William Shakespeare
The Poetry Corner 