I See A Woman May

Our Purses Shall Be Proud, Our Garments Poor; For 'tis The Mind That Makes The Body Rich

Appetite, A Universal Wolf.

His Steeds To Water At Those Springs On Chaliced Flowers That Lies; And Winking Mary-buds Begin To Ope Their Golden Eyes: With Every Thing That Pretty Is, My Lady Sweet, Arise.

A Time, Methinks, Too Short To Make A World-without-end Bargain In.

God Has Given You One Face, And You Make Yourself Another.