It Hurts Not The Tongue To Give

Women Being The Weaker Vessels, Are Ever Thrust To The Walls.

And Be These Juggling Friends No More Believ'd, That Palter With Us In A Double Sense; That Keep The Word Of Promise To Our Ear And Break It To Our Hope.

For Though The Camomile, The More It Is Trodden On The Faster It Grows, Yet Youth, The More It Is Wasted, The Sooner It Wears.

You Take My Life When You Do Take The Means Whereby I Live

Crowns In My Purse I Have, And Goods At Home, And So Am Come Abroad To See The World.