Get Thee A Good Husband, And Use

Honesty Is The Best Policy. If I Lose Mine Honor, I Lose Myself.

So Holy And So Perfect Is My Love, And I In Such A Poverty Of Grace, That I Shall Think It A Most Plenteous Crop To Glean The Broken Ears After The Man That The Main Harvest Reaps.

He Kills Her In Her Own Humor.

Grief Fills The Room Up Of My Absent Child, Lies In His Bed, Walks Up And Down With Me, Puts On His Pretty Look, Repeats His Words, Remembers Me Of His Gracious Parts, Stuffs Out His Vacant Garments With His Form

Where Love Is Great, The Littlest Doubts Are Fear; Where Little Fears Grow Great, Great Love Grows There.