And Oft, My Jealousy Shapes Faults That

When Holy And Devout Religious Men Are At Their Beads, 'tis Hard To Draw Them Thence; So Sweet Is Zealous Contemplation.

Give Me Mine Angle, We'll To Th' River: There, My Music Playing Far Off, I Will Betray Tawny-finned Fishes. My Bended Hook Shall Pierce Their Slimy Jaws; And As I Draw Them Up, I'll Think Them Every One An Antony, And Say, 'ah, Ha! Are Caught!'

Although The Last, Not Least.

Happy Thou Art Not; For What Thou Hast Not, Still Thou Strivest To Get; And What Thou Hast, Forgettest.

Show Me A Mistress That Is Passing Fair, What Doth Her Beauty Serve But As A Note Where I May Read Who Pass'd That Passing Fair?