Thou Shalt Not Stir One Foot To

Yet Mark'd I Where The Bolt Of Cupid Fell: It Fell Upon A Little Western Flower, Before Milk-white, Now Purple With Love's Wound, And Maidens Call It Love-in-idleness.

You Kiss By Th' Book.

If You Did Wed My Sister For Her Wealth, Then For Her Wealth's Sake Use Her With More Kindness; Or, If You Like Elsewhere, Do It By Stealth; Muffle Your False Love With Some Show Of Blindness; Let Not My Sister Read It In Your Eye; Be Not Thy Tongue Thy Own Shame's Orator; Look Sweet, Speak Fair, Become Disloyalty; Apparel Vice Like Virtue's Harbinger; Bear A Fair Presence, Though Your Heart Be Tainted; Teach Sin The Carriage Of A Holy Saint; Be Secret-false.

O Polished Perturbation! Golden Care! That Keep'st The Ports Of Slumber Open Wide To Many A Watchful Night.

O Sleep! O Gentle Sleep! Nature's Soft Nurse.