What E'er Thou Art, Act Well Thy

Have You Not Love Enough To Bear With Me, When That Rash Humor Which My Mother Gave Me Makes Me Forgetful.

No, Time, Thou Shalt Not Boast That I Do Change.

You Must Not Think That We Are Made Of Stuff So Fat And Dull That We Can Let Our Beard Be Shook With Danger And Think It Pastime.

Thou And I Are Too Wise To Woo Peaceably.

Pray, Love, Remember: And There Is Pansies, That's For Thoughts.