What E'er Thou Art, Act Well Thy

My Age Is As A Lusty Winter, Frosty But Kindly.

The Lunatic, The Lover, And The Poet, Are Of Imagination All Compact.

But I, That Am Not Shaped For Sportive Tricks, Nor Made To Court An Amorous Looking-glass; I, That Am Rudely Stamped, And Want Love's Majesty To Strut Before A Wanton Ambling Nymph.

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

Good Morning To You, Fair And Gracious Daughter.