Patience, The Beggar's Virtue, Shall Find No

Shall This Nectar Run Useless, Then, To Waste? Or ... These Lips, That Open Like The Morn, Breathing Perfumes, On Such As Dare Approach Them, Be Untouch'd? They Must--nay, 'tis In Vain To Make Resistance-- Be Often Kissed And Tasted.

Such As Ne'er Saw Swans May Think Crows Beautiful.

Thou Art Figured Blind, And Yet We Borrow Our Best Sight From Thee.

Like A Rough Orator, That Brings More Truth Than Rhetoric, To Make Good His Accusation.

Cheerful Looks Make Every Dish A Feast, And It Is That Which Crowns A Welcome.