Love Is Too Young To Know What

It Is Not Enough To Speak, But To Speak Truee

O Me, You Juggler, You Canker-blossom, You Thief Of Love!

This We Prescribe, Though No Physician; Deep Malice Makes Too Deep Incision; Forget, Forgive; Conclude And Be Agreed; Our Doctors Say This Is No Month To Bleed.

It Was A Lover And His Lass, With A Hey, And A Ho, And A Hey Nonino, That O'er The Green Corn-field Did Pass, In The Spring Time, The Only Pretty Ring Time, When Birds Do Sing, Hey Ding A Ding, Ding; Sweet Lovers Love The Spring.

A Sentence Is But A Cheveril Glove To A Good Wit; How Quickly The Wrong Side May Be Turned Outward!