Thou Seest I Have More

There's Rosemary, That's For Remembrance; Pray You, Love, Remember: And There Is Pansies, That's For Thoughts. There's Fennel For You, And Columbines: — There 's Rue For You; And Here's Some For Me: — We May Call It, Herb Of Grace O'sundays: — You May Wear Your Rue With A Difference. — There's A Daisy: — I Would Give You Some Violets; But They Withered All, When My Father Died: — They Say, He Made A Good End.

What A Deformed Thief This Fashion Is.

Conceal Me What I Am, And Be My Aid For Such Disguise As Haply Shall Become The Form Of My Intent.

It Is A Sin To Be A Mocker.

But Clay And Clay Differs In Dignity, Whose Dust Is Both Alike.