He's All My Exercise, My Mirth, My

Blind Is His Love, And Best Befits The Dark.

If I Shall Be Condemned Upon Surmises, All Proofs Sleeping Else But What Your Jealousies Awake, I Tell You 'tis Rigor And Not Law.

Let Witchcraft Join With Beauty, Lust With Both!

He Receives Comfort Like Cold Porridge.

What Freezings I Have Felt, What Dark Days Seen, What Old December's Bareness Everywhere!