One Woman Is Fair, Yet I Am

In Law, What Plea So Tainted And Corrupts, But Being Seasoned With A Gracious Voice Obscures The Show Of Evil.

As You Are Old And Reverend, You Should Be Wise.

What: Is The Jay More Precious Than The Lark Because His Feathers Are More Beautiful?

My Age Is As A Lusty Winter, Frosty But Kindly.

Prophet May You Be! If I Be False, Or Swerve A Hair From Truth, When Time Is Old And Hath Forgot Itself, When Waterdrops Have Worn The Stones Of Troy, And Blind Oblivion Swallowed Cities Up, And Mighty States Characterless Are Grated To Dusty Nothing, Yet Let Memory, From False To False, Among False Maids In Love, Upbraid My Falsehood!