We Waste Our Lights In Vain, Like

I Cannot Tell What You And Other Men Think Of This Life; But, For My Single Self, I Had As Lief Not Be As Live To Be In Awe Of Such A Thing As I Myself.

The Rose Looks Fair, But Fairer We It Deem For That Sweet Odour Which Doth In It Live.

Be To Yourself As You Would To Your Friend.

He That Will Have A Cake Out Of The Wheat Must Tarry The Grinding. Have I Not Tarried? Ay, The Grinding; But You Must Tarry The Bolting. Have I Not Tarried? Ay, The Bolting; But You Must Tarry The Leavening. Still Have I Tarried. Ay, To The Leavening; But Here's Yet In The Word 'hereafter' The Kneading, The Making Of The Cake, The Heating Of The Oven, And The Baking; Nay, You Must Stay The Cooling Too, Or You May Chance To Burn Your Lips.

Ere I Could Make Thee Open Thy White Hand, And Clap Thyself My Love; Then Didst Thou Utter, I Am Your's For Ever!