I Have Pursued Her, As Love Hath

That Skull Had A Tongue In It, And Could Sing Once: How The Knave Jowls It To The Ground, As If It Were Cain's Jaw-bone, That Did The First Murder! It Might Be The Pate Of A Politician, Which This Ass Now O'er-reaches; One That Would Circumvent God, Might It Not?

As Chaste As Is The Bud Ere It Be Blown.

Scratching Could Not Make It Worse, An't Were Such A Face As Yours Were.

Most Friendship Is Faining, Most Loving Mere Folly: Then, Heigh-ho, The Holly. This Life Is Most Jolly.

Delay Leads Impotent And Snail-paced Beggary.