I Go, I Go, Look

I And My Bosom Must Debate Awhile, And Then I Would No Other Company.

Our Wills And Fates Do So Contrary Run, That Our Devices Still Are Overthrown; Our Thoughts Are Ours, Their Ends None Of Our Own.

He Hath Eaten Me Out Of House And Home.

Thou Art All The Comfort, The Gods Will Diet Me With.

Crowns In My Purse I Have, And Goods At Home, And So Am Come Abroad To See The World.