He That Commends Me To Mine Own

For My Own Part, I Shall Be Glad To Learn Of Noble Men.

Fair Ladies, Masked, Are Roses In Their Bud; Dismasked, The Damask Sweet Commixture Shown, Are Angels Vailing Clouds, Or Roses Blown.

Bid Me Run, And I Will Strive With Things Impossible.

The Web Of Our Life Is Of A Mingled Yarn, Good And Ill Together.

Thou And I Are Too Wise To Woo Peaceably.