Assume A Virtue, If You Have It

Were Beauty Under Twenty Locks Kept Fast, Yet Love Breaks Through And Picks Them All At Last.

War Is No Strife To The Dark House And The Detested Wife.

Farewell, My Sister, Fare Thee Well. The Elements Be Kind To Thee, And Make Thy Spirits All Of Comfort: Fare Thee Well.

Chain Me With Roaring Bears; Or Shut Me Nightly In A Charnel-house, O'er-covered Quite With Dead Men's Rattling Bones, With Reeky Shanks And Yellow Chapless Skulls; Or Bid Me Go Into A New-made Grave, And Hide Me With A Dead Man In His Shroud; Things That, To Hear Them Told, Have Made Me Tremble; And I Will Do It Without Fear Or Doubt, To Live An Unstain'd Wife Of My Sweet Love.

To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old, For As You Were When First Your Eye I Ey'd, Such Seems Your Beauty Still.