A Fool's Bolt Is Soon Shot.

Being Your Slave What Should I Do But Tend, Upon The Hours, And Times Of Your Desire? I Have No Precious Time At All To Spend; Nor Services To Do Till You Require.

Equality Of Two Domestic Powers Breeds Scrupulous Faction.

Memory, The Warder Of The Brain.

Were't Not For Laughing, I Should Pity Him.

Under The Greenwood Tree, Who Loves To Lie With Me And Tune His Merry Note, Unto The Sweet Bird's Throat; Come Hither, Come Hither, Come Hither. Here Shall He See No Enemy But Winter And Rough Weather.