Morocco quotes

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Moonlight becomes you,
It goes with your hair.
"All that glistens is not gold,
Often have you heard that told;
...
From the four corners of the earth they come
To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint.
Cold indeed, and labor lost:
Then farewell heat, and welcome frost!
Good fortune then!
To make me blest or cursed'st among men.
"Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath."
Must give--for what? for lead, hazard for lead?
...
Never so rich a gem
Was set in worse than gold.
Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadowed livery of the burnished sun,
To whom I am a neighbor and near bred.
So may I, blind fortune leading me,
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
And die with grieving.
Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may!
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