O, Call Back Yesterday, Bid Time Return

You Cannot Call It Love, For At Your Age The Heyday In The Blood Is Tame

Tears Harden Lust, Though Marble Wear With Raining.

That Is Not The Best Sermon Which Makes The Hearers Go Away Talking To One Another And Praising The Speaker, But Which Makes Them Go Away Thoughtful And Serious, And Hastening To Be Alone.

But Virtue Never Will Be Mov'd, Though Lewdness Court It In A Shape Of Heaven.

That We Would Do We Should Do When We Would, For This 'would' Changes, And Hath Abatements And Delays As Many As There Are Tongues, Are Hands, Are Accidents, And Then This 'should' Is Like A Spendthrift Sigh, That Hurts By Easing.