We Must Be Brief When Traitors Brave

They Are Sick That Surfeit With Too Much, As They That Starve With Nothing.

Methinks You Are My Glass, And Not My Brother: I See By You I Am A Sweet-faced Youth.

Is Twenty Hundred Kisses Such A Trouble?

Forbear To Judge, For We Are Sinners All.

Love Is Like A Child, That Longs For Everything It Can Come By