Many That Are Not Mad Have, Sure,

Thou Shalt Not Stir One Foot To Seek A Foe.

Wise Men Ne'er Sit And Wail Their Woes, But Presently Prevent The Ways To Wail.

They Are Sick That Surfeit With Too Much, As They That Starve With Nothing.

Will Fortune Never Come With Both Hands Full, But Write Her Fair Words Still In Foulest Terms?

Her Virtues, Graced With External Gifts, Do Breed Love's Settled Passions In My Heart; And Like As Rigour Of Tempestuous Gusts Provokes The Mightiest Hulk Against The Tide, So Am I Driven By Breath Of Her Renown Either To Suffer Shipwreck Or Arrive Where I May Have Fruition Of Her Love.