If You Like Not Hanging, Drown Yourself;

But Married Once, A Man Is Stak'd Or Pown'd, And Cannot Graze Beyond His Own Hedge.

Detraction's A Bold Monster, And Fears Not To Wound The Fame Of Princes, If It Find But Any Blemish In Their Lives To Work On.

You May Boldly Say, You Did Not Plough Or Trust The Barren And Ungrateful Sands With The Fruitful Grain Of Your Religious Counsels.

A Willing Mind Makes A Hard Journey Easy.

Shall This Nectar Run Useless, Then, To Waste? Or ... These Lips, That Open Like The Morn, Breathing Perfumes, On Such As Dare Approach Them, Be Untouch'd? They Must--nay, 'tis In Vain To Make Resistance-- Be Often Kissed And Tasted.