O, I Have Suffered With Those That

Come, Woo Me, Woo Me, For Now I Am In A Holiday Humor, And Like Enough To Consent.

We See Which Way The Stream Of Time Doth Run.

Heaven Would That She These Gifts Should Have, And I To Live And Die Her Slave.

If It Were Done When 'tis Done, Then 'twere Well. It Were Done Quickly.

This Is A Gift That I Have, Simple, Simple; A Foolish Extravagant Spirit Full Of Forms, Figures, Shapes, Objects, Ideas, Apprehensions, Motions, Revolutions; These Are Begot In The Ventricle Of Memory, Nourished In The Womb Of Pia Mater, And Delivered Upon The Mellowing Of Occasion.