Ambition, In A Private Man Is A

Shall This Nectar Run Useless, Then, To Waste? Or ... These Lips, That Open Like The Morn, Breathing Perfumes, On Such As Dare Approach Them, Be Untouch'd? They Must--nay, 'tis In Vain To Make Resistance-- Be Often Kissed And Tasted.

Detraction's A Bold Monster, And Fears Not To Wound The Fame Of Princes, If It Find But Any Blemish In Their Lives To Work On.

Virgin Me No Virgins! I Must Have You Lose That Name, Or You Lose Me.

Oh That Thou Hadst Like Others Been All Words, And No Performance.

I Had Not To This Time Subsisted, But That I Was Supported By Your Frequent Courtesies And Favours.