He Wears The Rose Of Youth Upon

I Must Be Cruel, Only To Be Kind.

But Indeed An Old Religious Uncle Of Mine Taught Me To Speak, Who Was In His Youth An Inland Man; One That Knew Courtship Too Well, For There He Fell In Love. I Have Heard Him Read Many Lectures Against It; And I Thank God I Am Not A Woman, To Be Touched With So Many Giddy Offenses As He Hath Generally Taxed Their Whole Sex Withal.

Be Merry; You Have Cause, So Have We All, Of Joy; For Our Escape Is Much Beyond Our Loss . . . . Then Wisely Weigh Our Sorrow With Our Comfort.

If I Must Die, I Will Encounter Darkness As A Bride, And Hug It In Mine Arms.

If I Shall Be Condemned Upon Surmises, All Proofs Sleeping Else But What Your Jealousies Awake, I Tell You 'tis Rigor And Not Law.