Nature's Lay Idiot, I Taught

Christ Beats His Drum, But He Does Not Press Men; Christ Is Served With Voluntaries.

Sweetest Love, I Do Not Go, For Weariness Of Thee, Nor In Hope The World Can Show A Fitter Love For Me; But Since That I Must Die At Last, 'tis Best, To Use My Self In Jest Thus By Feign'd Deaths To Die.

Thy Face Is Mine Eye, And Mine Is Thine.

Young Men Mend Not Their Sight By Using Old Men's Spectacles.

All Other Things To Their Destruction Draw, Only Our Love Hath No Decay.