All Pity Choked With Custom Of Fell

Lechery, Lechery; Still, Wars And Lechery: Nothing Else Holds Fashion.

Some Rise By Sin, And Some By Virtue Fall.

In Religion, What Damned Error But Some Sober Brow Will Bless It, And Approve It With A Text, Hiding The Grossness With Fair Ornament?

The Wounds Invisible That Love's Keen Arrows Make.

Sigh No More Ladies, Sigh No More, Men Were Deceivers Ever