As Chaste As Is The Bud Ere

Conceit, More Rich In Matter Than In Words, Brags Of His Substance, Not Of Ornament: They Are But Beggars That Can Count Their Worth; But My True Love Is Grown To Such Excess, I Cannot Sum Up Half My Sum Of Wealth.

Examine Well Your Blood.

But Flies An Eagle Flight, Bold And Forth On, Leaving No Tract Behind.

Thou Weedy Elf-skinned Canker-blossom!

Good God, The Souls Of All My Tribe Defend From Jealousy!