Madness In Great Ones Must Not Unwatched

My Hounds Are Bred Out Of The Spartan Kind; So Flew'd, So Sanded; Their Heads Are Hung With Ears That Sweep Away The Morning Dew.

This Bud Of Love, By Summer's Ripening Breath, May Prove A Beauteous Flower When Next We Meet

Do Not Cast Away An Honest Man For A Villain's Accusation.

As Chaste As Is The Bud Ere It Be Blown.

He Makes A July's Day Short As December.