Away! Thou'rt Poison To My

Would I Were In An Alehouse In London.

Desire Of Having Is The Sin Of Covetousness.

For A Noble Heart, The Most Precious Gift Becomes Poor, When The Giver Stops Loving.

So Now I Have Confessed That He Is Thine, And I My Self Am Mortgaged To Thy Will, My Self I'll Forfeit, So That Other Mine, Thou Wilt Restore To Be My Comfort Still.

Good Wine Is A Good Familiar Creature If It Be Well Used.