The Amity That Wisdom Knits Not, Folly

Bait The Hook Well. This Fish Will Bite.

So Full Of Artless Jealousy Is Guilt, It Spills Itself In Fearing To Be Spilt.

Speak To Me As To Thy Thinkings, As Thou Dost Ruminate, And Give Thy Worst Of Thoughts The Worst Of Words.

Tired With All These For Restful Death I Cry, As To Behold Desert A Beggar Born, And Needy Nothing Trimmed In Jollity, And Purest Faith Unhappily Forsworn.

It Is Held That Valor Is The Chiefest Virtue, And Most Dignifies The Haver.