Love Is Merely A Madness.

All That Glitters Is Not Gold; Often Have You Heard That Told: Many A Man His Life Has Sold But My Outside To Behold: Gilded Tombs Do Worms Enfold Had You Been As Wise As Bold, Your In Limbs, In Judgment Old, Your Answer Had Not Been In'scroll'd Fare You Well: Your Suit Is Cold.' Cold, Indeed, And Labour Lost: Then, Farewell, Heat And Welcome, Frost!

Each Present Joy Or Sorrow Seems The Chief.

Fair Youth, I Would I Could Make Thee Believe I Love.

Now Join Your Hands, And With Your Hands Your Hearts.

I Fill Up A Place, Which May Be Better... When I Have Made It Empty.