There's Not A Note Of Mine That's

Soft Pity Enters An Iron Gate.

If He Be So Resolved, I Can O'ersway Him; For He Loves To Hear That Unicorns May Be Betrayed With Trees And Bears With Glasses, Elephants With Holes, Lions With Toils, And Men With Flatterers

With Mirth And Laughter Let Old Wrinkles Come.

False Face Must Hide What The False Heart Doth Know.

To England Will I Steal, And There I'll Steal.