How Ready Is Heaven To Those That

If You Succeed Not, Cast Not Away The Quills Yet, Nor Scratch The Wainscot, Beat Not The Poor Desk, But Bring All To The Forge And File Again; Turn It New.

That Old Bald Cheater, Time.

Come, My Celia, Let Us Prove, While We Can, The Sports Of Love, Time Will Not Be Ours For Ever, He, At Length, Our Good Will Sever; Spend Not Then His Gifts In Vain: Suns That Set May Rise Again; But If Once We Lose This Light, 'tis With Us Perpetual Night. Why Should We Defer Our Joys? Fame And Rumour Are But Toys.

Love That Is Ignorant And Hatred Have Almost The Same Ends.

The Devil Is An Ass , I Do Acknowledge It.