They're Only Truly Great Who Are Truly

I Pray, What Flowers Are These? The Pansy This, O, That's For Lover's Thoughts.

Give Me A Spirit That On This Life's Rough Sea Loves T'have His Sails Filled With A Lusty Wind, Even Till His Sail-yards Tremble, His Masts Crack, And His Ship Run On Her Side So Low That She Drinks Water, And Her Keel Plows Air.

Perfect Happiness, By Princes Sought, Is Not With Birth Born, Nor Exchequers Bought.

Flatterers Look Like Friends, As Wolves Like Dogs.

Black Is A Pearl In A Woman's Eye.