Nor Age So Eat Up My Invention.

Lovers Can Do Their Amorous Rites By Their Own Beauties

Now I Am Past All Comforts Here, But Prayer.

There Is No Vice So Simple But Assumes Some Mark Of Virtue On His Outward Parts.

Thou Art Most Rich, Being Poor; Most Choice, Forsaken; And Most Lov'd, Despis'd! Thee And Thy Virtues Here I Seize Upon.

As A Walled Town Is More Worthier Than A Village, So Is The Forehead Of A Married Man More Honorable Than The Bare Brow Of A Bachelor.