Fire That's Closest Kept Burns Most Of

Beauty Is Bought By Judgement Of The Eye.

Thus Hath The Candle Sing'd The Moth. O These Deliberate Fools!

The Rose Looks Fair, But Fairer We It Deem For That Sweet Odour Which Doth In It Live.

Have Not Saints Lips, And Holy Palmers Too Ay, Pilgrim, Lips That They Must Use In Prayer.

Ambition, The Soldier's Virtue, Rather Makes Choice Of Loss, Than Gain Which Darkens Him.