A Girl Takes Too Much Time To

All's Well That Ends Well; Still The Fine's The Crown. Whate'er The Course, The End Is The Renown.

Vanity Keeps Persons In Favor With Themselves Who Are Out Of Favor With All Others.

If Your Mind Dislike Anything Obey It

Grief Fills The Room Up Of My Absent Child, Lies In His Bed, Walks Up And Down With Me, Puts On His Pretty Look, Repeats His Words, Remembers Me Of His Gracious Parts, Stuffs Out His Vacant Garments With His Form

Yet Nor The Lays Of Birds Nor The Sweet Smell Of Different Flowers In Odour And In Hue Could Make Me Any Summer's Story Tell, Or From Their Proud Lap Pluck Them Where They Grew; Nor Did I Wonder At The Lily's White, Nor Praise The Deep Vermilion In The Rose; They Were But Sweet, But Figures Of Delight, Drawn After You, You Pattern Of All Those.