How Much Shall I Be Changed, Before

Great Sins Are Great Possessions; But Levities And Vanities Possess Us Too; And Men Had Rather Part With Christ Than With Any Possession.

I Wonder, By My Troth, What Thou And I Did, Till We Lov'd?

We Can Die By It, If Not Live By Love, And If Unfit For Tombs And Hearse Our Legend Be, It Will Be Fit For Verse; And If No Peace Of Chronicle We Prove, We'll Build In Sonnet Pretty Rooms; As Well A Well Wrought Urne Becomes The Greatest Ashes, As Half-acre Tombs.

All Occasions Invite His Mercies, And All Times Are His Seasons.

I Shall Die Reading; Since My Book And A Grave Are So Near.