Cursed Be The Hand That Made These

Gently To Hear, Kindly To Judge.

Lilies That Fester Smell Far Worse Than Weeds.

But Till All Graces Be In One Woman, One Woman Shall Not Come In My Grace. Rich She Shall Be, That's Certain; Wise, Or I'll None; Virtuous, Or I'll Never Cheapen Her; Fair, Or I'll Never Look On Her; Mild, Or Come Not Near Me; Noble, Or Not I For An Angel; Of Good Discourse, And Excellent Musician And Her Hair Shall Be Of What Colour It Shall Please God.

Heaven Would That She These Gifts Should Have, And I To Live And Die Her Slave.

I Cannot But Remember Such Things Were That Were Most Precious To Me.