Sweets With Sweets War Not, Joy Delights

April ... Hath Put A Spirit Of Youth In Everything.

Good Morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's Day, All In The Morn Betime, And I A Maid At Your Window, To Be Your Valentine.

Why, Look You, I Am Whipp'd And Scourg'd With Rods, Nettled And Stung With Pismires[nettles], When I Hear Of This Vile Politician, Bolingbroke.

O World, How Apt The Poor Are To Be Proud!

Well, Every One Can Master A Grief But He That Has It.