Thus Is His Cheek The

Beauty Lives With Kindness.

Unquiet Meals Make Ill Digestions.

Your Bait Of Falsehood Takes This Carp Of Truth.

Thrust Your Head Into The Public Street, To Gaze On Christian Fools With Varnish'd Faces.

She Never Told Her Love, But Let Concealment, Like A Worm 'i Th' Bud, Feed On Her Damask Cheek. She Pinned In Thought; And, With A Green And Yellow Melancholy, She Sat Like Patience On A Monument, Smiling At Grief. Was Not This Love Indeed? We Men May Say More, Swear More; But Indeed Our Shows Are More Than Will; For We Still Prove Much In Our Vows But Little In Our Love.