Nature Hath Framed Strange Fellows In Her

Men Must Learn Now With Pity To Dispense; For Policy Sits Above Conscience.

Thou Ever Young, Fresh, Lov'd, And Delicate Wooer, Whose Blush Doth Thaw The Consecrated Snow

We Make Guilty Of Our Disasters The Sun, The Moon, And The Stars; As If We Were Villians By Compulsion.

See What A Ready Tongue Suspicion Hath!

I Cannot But Remember Such Things Were That Were Most Precious To Me.