I Perceive Affection Makes A Fool Of

Drink To Me Only With Thine Eyes, And I Will Pledge With Mine; Or Leave A Kiss But In The Cup And I'll Not Look For Wine.

Thy Praise Or Dispraise Is To Me Alike; One Doth Not Stroke Me, Nor The Other Strike.

True Gladness Doth Not Always Speak; Joy, Bred And Born But In The Tongue, Is Weak.

As It Is A Great Point Of Art, When Our Matter Requires It, To Enlarge And Veer Out All Sail, So To Take It In And Contract It Is Of No Less Praise When The Argument Doth Ask It.

Nothing Is A Courtesy Unless It Be Meant Us, And That Friendly And Lovingly. We Owe No Thanks To Rivers That They Carry Our Boats, Or Winds That They Be Favoring And Fill Our Sails, Or Meats That They Be Nourishing; For These Are What They Are Necessarily. Horses Carry Us, Trees Shade Us; But They Know It Not.