Hereditary Sloth Instructs Me.

Speak To Me As To Thy Thinkings, As Thou Dost Ruminate, And Give Thy Worst Of Thoughts The Worst Of Words.

At Christmas, I No More Desire A Rose.

Manhood Is Melted Into Courtesies, Valor Into Compliment, And Men Are Only Turned Into Tongue, And Trim Ones, Too.

... The Spring, The Summer, The Chilling Autumn, Angry Winter, Change Their Wonted Liveries; And The Mazed World By Their Increase, Now Knows Not Which Is Which.

Nothing In His Life Became Him Like Leaving It.