To Hold, As 't Were,

By How Much Unexpected, By So Much We Must Awake Endeavour For Defence; For Courage Mounteth With Occasion.

Would I Were Dead, If God's Good Will Were So, For What Is In This World But Grief And Woe?

A Nun Of Winter's Sisterhood Kisses Not More Religiously; The Very Ice Of Chastity Is In Them.

O Ceremony, Show Me But Thy Worth? What Is Thy Soul Of Adoration? Art Thou Aught Else But Place, Degree, And Form, Creating Awe And Fear In Other Men?

I Must Have Liberty Withal, As Large A Charter As The Wind, To Blow On Whom I Please, For So Fools Have.