Which Can Say More Than This Rich

Unsubstantial Death Is Amorous.

I Am Wealthy In My Friends.

We May Outrun By Violent Swiftness And Lose By Over-running.

There's Not The Smallest Orb Which Thou Behold'st But In His Motion Like An Angel Sings.

How Slow This Old Moon Wanes! She Lingers My Desires, Like To A Stepdame, Or A Dowager, Long Withering Out A Young Man's Revenue.