I Will Make Thee Think Thy Swan

To You Your Father Should Be As A God; One That Composed Your Beauties, Yea, And One To Whom You Are But As A Form In Wax, By Him Imprinted, And Within His Power To Leave The Figure Or Disfigure It.

Tis The Times' Plague, When Madmen Lead The Blind.

It Were A Grief So Brief To Part With Thee. Farewell.

A Girl Takes Too Much Time To Love And A Few Seconds To Hate. But A Boy Takes A Few Seconds To Love And Too Much Time To Hate.

Our Purses Shall Be Proud, Our Garments Poor; For 'tis The Mind That Makes The Body Rich