I Have Nothing Of Woman In Me;

A Woman Would Run Through Fire And Water For Such A Kind Heart.

I Love A Ballad In Print O' Life, For Then We Are Sure They Are True.

Things At The Worst Will Cease Or Else Climb Upward To What They Were Before.

You Are My True And Honourable Wife; As Dear To Me As The Ruddy Drops That Visit My Sad Heart.

So Our Virtues Lie In The Interpretation Of The Time