Nature's Tears Are Reason's Merriment.

Hot Lavender, Mints, Savory, Marjoram; The Marigold, That Goes To Bed Wi' The Sun, And With Him Rise Weeping.

As Love Is Full Of Unbefitting Strains, All Wanton As A Child, Skipping And Vain, Form'd By The Eye And Therefore, Like The Eye, Full Of Strange Shapes, Of Habits And Of Forms, Varying In Subjects As The Eye Doth Roll To Every Varied Object In His Glance

Two Stars Keep Not Their Motion In One Sphere.

In Persons Grafted In A Serious Trust, Negligence Is A Crime.

Enjoy The Honey-heavy Dew Of Slumber.