There's No More Faith In Thee Than

This Man, Lady, Hath Robb'd Many Beasts Of Their Particular Additions: He Is As Valiant As A Lion, Churlish As The Bear, Slow As The Elephant-a Man Into Whom Nature Hath So Crowded Humours That His Valour Is Crush'd Into Folly, His Folly Sauced With Discretion.

So Our Virtues Lie In The Interpretation Of The Time

This Fell Sergeant, Death, Is Strict In His Arrest.

How Many A Holy And Obsequious Tear Hath Dear Religious Love Stolen From Mine Eye, As Interest Of The Dead!

'tis One Thing To Be Tempted, Another Thing To Fall.