I Will Not Be Sworn But Love

Do Not For One Repulse, Forego The Purpose That You Resolved To Effect.

When That Churl Death My Bones With Dust Shall Cover.

You Are Not Wood, You Are Not Stones, But Men.

O Momentary Grace Of Mortal Men, Which We More Hunt For Than The Grace Of God!

Nay Then, Let The Devil Wear Black, For I'll Have A Suit Of Sables.