Keep Thy Foot Out Of Brothels, Thy

What, Gone Without A Word? Ay, So True Love Should Do; It Cannot Speak, For Truth Hath Better Deeds Than Words To Grace It.

For Death Remembered Should Be Like A Mirror, Who Tells Us Life’s But Breath, To Trust It Error.

Make Passionate My Sense Of Hearing.

Religious Canons, Civil Laws, Are Cruel; Then What Should War Be?

I Praise God For You, Sir: Your Reasons At Dinner Have Been Sharp And Sententious; Pleasant Without Scurrility, Witty Without Affectation, Audacious Without Impudency, Learned Without Opinion, And Strange With-out Heresy.