Lust-bred Diseases Rot Thee.

Young Men Mend Not Their Sight By Using Old Men's Spectacles.

How Many Times Go We To Comedies, To Masques, To Places Of Great And Noble Resort, Nay Even To Church Only To See The Company.

Old Grandsires Talk Of Yesterday With Sorrow, And For Our Children We Reserve Tomorrow.

To Rage, To Lust, To Write To, To Commend, All Is The Purlieu Of The God Of Love.

And To 'scape Stormy Days, I Choose An Everlasting Night.