Yield, ladies, yield to love, ladies, which lurketh under your eyelids whilst you sleep and playeth with your heartstrings whilst you wake, whose sweetness never breedeth satiety, labour weariness, nor grief bitterness.

-Lyly,John
  Gallathea, epilogue.

   The feelings withwhichwe facethisnewage of right and opportunity sweep across our heartstrings like some air out of God's own presence, where justice and mercyare reconciled, and the judge and the brother are one.

-Wilson, (Thomas) Woodrow
  Inaugural address, 4 Mar.