Still Constant Is A Wondrous Excellence.

So Curses All Eve's Daughters Of What Complexion Soever.

Nay, We Must Think Men Are Not Gods, Nor Of Them Look For Such Observancy As Fits The Bridal.

No Man Means Evil But The Devil, And We Shall Know Him By His Horns.

There Is Flattery In Friendship.

So Holy And So Perfect Is My Love, And I In Such A Poverty Of Grace, That I Shall Think It A Most Plenteous Crop To Glean The Broken Ears After The Man That The Main Harvest Reaps.