For I Can Raise No Money By

My Hands Are Of Your Color, But I Shame To Wear A Heart So White.

Thou Art An Elm, My Husband, I A Vine.

Let Me Not Live, After My Flame Lacks Oil, To Be The Snuff Of Younger Spirits.

I Do The Wrong, And First Begin To Brawl. The Secret Mischiefs That I Set Abroach I Lay Unto The Grievous Charge Of Others.

A Woman's Thought Runs Before Her Actions.