Women Being The Weaker Vessels, Are Ever

Here Comes A Pair Of Very Strange Beasts, Which In All Tongues Are Called Fools.

I Have Drunk And Seen The Spider.

The Lily I Condemned For Thy Hand, And Buds Of Marjoram Had Stol'n Thy Hair: The Roses Fearfully On Thorns Did Stand, One Blushing Shame, Another White Despair; A Third, Nor Red Nor White, Had Stol'n Of Both And To His Robbery Had Annex'd Thy Breath; But, For His Theft, In Pride Of All His Growth A Vengeful Canker Eat Him Up To Death. More Flowers I Noted, Yet I None Could See But Sweet Or Colour It Had Stol'n From Thee.

This Night I Hold An Old Accustomed Feast, Whereto I Have Invited Many A Guest, Such As I Love; And You Among The Store, One More, Most Welcome, Makes My Number More.

I Must To The Barber's, Monsieur, For Methinks I Am Marvellous Hairy About The Face.