Love Asks Me No Questions, And Gives

Come My Spade. There Is No Ancient Gentlemen But Gardeners, Ditchers, And Grave-makers; They Hold Up Adam's Profession.

To Wilful Men, The Injuries That They Themselves Procure Must Be Their Schoolmasters.

... The Spring, The Summer, The Chilling Autumn, Angry Winter, Change Their Wonted Liveries; And The Mazed World By Their Increase, Now Knows Not Which Is Which.

And How His Audit Stands Who Knows, Save Heaven?

I Should Think This A Gull, But That The White-bearded Fellow Speaks It; Knavery Cannot, Sure, Hide Himself In Such Reverence.