O Coward Conscience, How Dost Thou Afflict

Go, Write It In A Martial Hand; Be Curst And Brief; It Is No Matter How Witty, So It Be Eloquent And Fun Of Invention: Taunt Him With The Licence Of Ink: If Thou Thou'st Him Some Thrice, It Shall Not Be Amiss; And As Many Lies As Will Lie In Thy Shee.

See Where She Comes Apparelled Like The Spring.

A Virtuous And A Christianlike Conclusion-- To Pray For Them That Have Done Scathe To Us.

They Met So Near With Their Lips That Their Breaths Embraced Together.

I Will Go Wash; And When My Face Is Fair, You Shall Perceive Whether I Blush Or No.