For I Am Proverbed With A Grandsire

Thou Hast Nor Youth Nor Age But As It Were An After Dinner Sleep Dreaming Of Both.

All Places That The Eye Of Heaven Visits Are To A Wise Man Ports And Happy Havens. Teach Thy Necessity To Reason Thus; There Is No Virtue Like Necessity.

But Here's The Joy: My Friend And I Are One, Sweet Flattery!

The Language I Have Learnt These Forty Years, My Native English, Now I Must Forgo; And Now My Tongue's Use Is To Me No More Than An Unstringed Viol Or A Harp, Or Like A Cunning Instrument Cased Up Or, Being Open, Put Into His Hands That Knows No Touch To Tune The Harmony.

My Love Is Strengthen'd, Though More Weak In Seeming; I Love Not Less, Though Less The Show Appear: That Love Is Merchandised Whose Rich Esteeming The Owner's Tongue Doth Publish Every Where.