Truth Is The Ground Of

O Sweet Woods, The Delight Of Solitariness!

My True-love Hath My Heart, And I Have His, By Just Exchange, One For The Other Given; I Hold His Dear, And Mine He Cannot Miss, There Never Was A Better Bargain Driven.

Take Thou Of Me, Sweet Pillowes, Sweetest Bed; A Chamber Deafe Of Noise, And Blind Of Light, A Rosie Garland And A Weary Hed.

There Is No Dearth Of Charity In The World In Giving, But There Is Comparatively Little Exercised In Thinking And Speaking.

There Is A Certain Delicacy Which In Yielding Conquers; And With A Pitiful Look Makes One Find Cause To Crave Help One's Self.