And Why Not Death Rather Than Living

In Scorn Of Nature, Art Gave Lifeless Life.

[thine] Face Is Not Worth Sunburning.

Be Not Afeard; The Isle Is Full Of Noises.

And His Unkindness May Defeat My Life, But Never Taint My Love.

You'd Be So Lean, That Blast Of January Would Blow You Through And Through. Now, My Fair'st Friend, I Would I Had Some Flowers O' The Spring That Might Become Your Time Of Day.