Nothing In His Life Became Him Like

How Many Fond Fools Serve Mad Jealousy!

I Will Despair, And Be At Enmity With Cozening Hope.

How Strange Or Odd Some'er I Bear Myself, As I Perchance Hereafter Shall Think Meet To Put An Antic Disposition On.

She Shall Scant Show Well That Now Shows Best.

Love's Heralds Should Be Thoughts, Which Ten Times Faster Glide Than The Sun's Beams Driving Back Shadows Over Low'ring Hills. Therefore Do Nimble-pinioned Doves Draw Love, And Therefore Hath The Wind-swift Cupid Wings.