Ophelia

To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most beautified Ophelia:

Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt thou 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 reckonmy groans;

but that I love thee best, O most best, believe it! Adieu.

-Thine, evermore, most dear lady...

-(Whilst this machine is to him), -Hamlet.