Greatest Scandal Waits On Greatest State.

I Had Rather Be A Toad, And Live Upon The Vapor Of A Dungeon Than Keep A Corner In The Thing I Love For Others Uses.

Ay, Much Is The Force Of Heaven-bred Poesy.

The Poet's Eye, In A Fine Frenzy Rolling, Doth Glance From Heaven To Earth, From Earth To Heaven.

This Bud Of Love, By Summer's Ripening Breath, May Prove A Beauteous Flower When Next We Meet

For In The Fatness Of These Pursy Times Virtue Itself Of Vice Must Pardon Beg.