Are There No Stones In Heaven But

How Art Thou Out Of Breath When Thou Hast Breath To Say To Me That Thou Art Out Of Breath?

The Let-alone Lies Not In Your Good Will.

Make Passionate My Sense Of Hearing.

That's A Valiant Flea That Dares Eat His Breakfast On The Lip Of A Lion.

O Mistress Mine, Where Are You Roaming? O, Stay And Hear; Your True Love's Coming, That Can Sing Both High And Low: Trip No Further, Pretty Sweeting; Journeys End In Lovers Meeting, Every Wise Man's Son Doth Know. What Is Love? 'tis Not Hereafter; Present Mirth Hath Present Laughter; What's To Come Is Still Unsure: In Delay There Lies Not Plenty; Then, Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty, Youth's A Stuff Will Not Endure.