Forbear To Judge, For We

There Live Not Three Good Men Unhanged In England; And One Of Them Is Fat And Grows Old.

O Powerful Love, That In Some Respects Makes A Beast A Man, In Some Other, A Man A Beast.

The End Crowns All, And That Old Common Arbitrator, Time, Will One Day End It.

One Sin Another Doth Provoke.

Unless Hours Were Cups Of Sack, And Minutes Capons, And Clocks The Tongues Of Bawds, And Dials The Signs Of Leaping-houses, And The Blessed Sun Himself A Fair Hot Wench In Flame-colored Taffeta, I See No Reason Why Thou Shouldst Be So Superfluous To Demand The Time Of The Day.