Love's Gentle Spring Doth Always Fresh Remain.

To Persist In Doing Wrong Extenuates Not The Wrong, But Makes It Much More Heavy.

I Have Thought Some Of Nature's Journeymen Had Made Men And Not Made Them Well, They Imitated Humanity So Abominably.

Stars Hide Your Fires; Let Not Light See My Black And Deep Desires: The Eyes Wink At The Hand; Yet Let That Be Which The Eye Fears, When It Is Done, To See

We Wound Our Modesty And Make Foul The Clearness Of Our Deservings, When Of Ourselves We Publish Them.

Methought I Was Enamour'd Of An Ass.