Thou Hast Not Half That

[thine] Face Is Not Worth Sunburning.

But Thy Eternal Summer Shall Not Fade.

Glory Grows Guilty Of Detested Crimes.

Do Not For One Repulse, Forego The Purpose That You Resolved To Effect.

If Thou Art Rich, Thou Art Poor; For, Like An Ass, Whose Back With Ingots Bows, Thou Bearest Thy Heavy Riches But A Journey, And Death Unloads Thee.