Fie On Possession, But If A Man

There's Never A New Fashion But It's Old.

Look Up On High, And Thank The God Of All.

Time And Tide Wait For No Man.

The Life So Brief, The Art So Long In The Learning, The Attempt So Hard, The Conquest So Sharp, The Fearful Joy That Ever Slips Away So Quickly - By All This I Mean Love, Which So Sorely Astounds My Feeling With Its Wondrous Operation, That When I Think Upon It I Scarce Know Whether I Wake Or Sleep.

For Thogh We Slepe, Or Wake, Or Rome, Or Ryde, Ay Fleeth The Tyme; It Nyl No Man Abyde.