You May My Glories And My State

What Should We Speak Of When We Are Old As You? When We Shall Hear The Rain And Wind Beat Dark December? How, In This Our Pinching Cave, Shall We Discourse The Freezing Hours Away?

Nothing 'gainst Times Scythe Can Make Defence.

Oh, Flatter Me; For Love Delights In Praises.

Wait For The Season When To Cast Good Counsels Upon Subsiding Passion.

Children Wish Fathers Looked But With Their Eyes; Fathers That Children With Their Judgment Looked; And Either May Be Wrong.