The Morning Steals Upon The Night, Melting

Upon Thy Cheek I Lay This Zealous Kiss, As Seal To The Indenture Of My Love.

I Had Rather Be A Dog, And Bay The Moon, Than Such A Roman.

She Is Your Treasure, She Must Have A Husband; I Must Dance Bare-foot On Her Wedding Day, And, For Your Love To Her, Lead Apes In Hell.

The Path Is Smooth That Leadeth On To Danger.

You Saw Her Fair, None Else Being By, Herself Pois'd With Herself In Either Eye; But In That Crystal Scales Let There Be Weigh'd Your Lady's Love Against Some Other Maid That I Will Show You Shining At This Feast, And She Shall Scant Show Well That Now Seems Best.