Nothing Can Seem Foul To Those Who

The Even Mead, That Erst Brought Sweetly Forth The Freckled Cowslip, Burnet, And Green Clover, Wanting The Scythe, All Uncorrected, Rank, Conceives By Idleness, And Nothing Teems But Hateful Docks, Rough Thistles, Kecksies, Burrs, Losing Both Beauty And Utility.

O Good Old Man, How Well In Thee Appears The Constant Service Of The Antique World, When Service Sweat For Duty, Not For Meed! Thou Art Not For The Fashion Of These Times, Where None Will Sweat But For Promotion, And Having That Do Choke Their Service Up Even With The Having. . . .

Let Witchcraft Join With Beauty, Lust With Both!

So Loving To My Mother, That He Might Not Beteem The Winds Of Heaven, Visit Her Face' Too Roughly.

When I Said I Would Die A Bachelor, I Did Not Think I Should Live Till I Were Married.