I Wish My Sun May Never Set,

I Am Obnoxious To Each Carping Tongue/ Who Says My Hand A Needle Better Fits./ A Poet's Pen All Scorn I Should Thus Wrong/ For Such Despite They Cast On Female Wits;/ If What I Do Prove Well, It Won't Advance,/ They'll Say It's Stolen, Or Else, It Was By Chance.

My Hope And Treasure Lies Above

If We Had No Winter, The Spring Would Not Be So Pleasant.

But Man Grows Old, Lies Down, Remains Where Once He's Laid.

If Ever Two Were One, Then Surely We. If Ever Man Were Loved By Wife, Then Thee.