To Whom God Will, There Be The

My Crown Is Called Content, A Crown That Seldom Kings Enjoy.

Is She Kind As She Is Fair?

The Language I Have Learnt These Forty Years, My Native English, Now I Must Forgo; And Now My Tongue's Use Is To Me No More Than An Unstringed Viol Or A Harp, Or Like A Cunning Instrument Cased Up Or, Being Open, Put Into His Hands That Knows No Touch To Tune The Harmony.

Be Like You Thought Our Love Would Last Too Long, If It Were Chain'd Together

What Soilders Whey-face? The English For So Please You. Take Thy Face Hence.