If Wishes Would Prevail With Me, My

Through Tattered Clothes, Small Vices Do Appear. Robes And Furred Gowns Hide All.

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

If After Every Tempest Come Such Calms, May The Winds Blow Till They Have Waken'd Death!

Words Without Thoughts Never To Heaven Go.

When Rich Villains Have Need Of Poor Ones, Poor Ones May Make What Price They Will