Thou Art An Elm, My Husband, I

Tis The Times' Plague, When Madmen Lead The Blind.

Good Morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's Day, All In The Morn Betime, And I A Maid At Your Window, To Be Your Valentine.

I Am Such A Tender Ass, If My Hair Do But Tickle Me, I Must Scratch.

My Love Is Strengthen'd, Though More Weak In Seeming; I Love Not Less, Though Less The Show Appear: That Love Is Merchandised Whose Rich Esteeming The Owner's Tongue Doth Publish Every Where.

Thou Art A Castilian King Urinal!