Tears Harden Lust, Though Marble

Bid Me Discourse, I Will Enchant Thine Ear

Give To A Gracious Message An Host Of Tongues, But Let Ill Tidings Tell Themselves When They Be Felt.

Tis Beauty That Doth Oft Make Women Proud; But, God He Knows, Thy Share Thereof Is Small.

In Religion, What Damned Error But Some Sober Brow Will Bless It, And Approve It With A Text, Hiding The Grossness With Fair Ornament?

My Only Love Sprung From My Only Hate.